Animal
by Phoenix xxxxx
Summary: Even if I was turned back into a human, would they accept me? Would she? I still love her, and I'm not over her, but I'm needed here now.
1. Chapter One : Animal I Am Becoming

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, sexual content and **_**lots **_**of language.**

**A.N.:**** The only canon I'm fighting head on is that Wikus' transformation is a little bit further along than in the film and the moustache. That just **_**has**_** to go. Each chapter title will refer to a song that inspired it a little, but you don't have to listen to it if it isn't your cup of tea. This is mostly PWP at first, but it will deepen as we go along. The sentences in **_**cursive**_** are Wikus' body's reaction to what he's thinking until everything is just his body. I'm crap at writing speech patterns, so just bear with me. P.S.: Skirilla is pronounced Sky-riller.**

**Chapter One: Animal I Am Becoming **(Animal I Have Become-Three Days Grace)

It reeks. I'm sick and I ache all over and deep inside and I'm in _District 9_ and it fooking reeks. It's hell. I'm in fooking _hell_. I spent the entire night puking up my own guts and peeling off my own flesh and this place reeks. This must be what it smells like to the prawns. And to me. The prawns and me. Oh, I don't want to think like that! They're ignoring me, just like they ignore everything until something goes wrong. Like someone turns into a fooking thing, half-way between what's alien to them and what's alien to us. 'Who's us?' Taunts a voice in the back of my mind, which sounds like a mixture of Koobus and that awful bully from middle school. God, I _hated_ that boy. He had such an annoying voice.

Christopher has a nice voice. Deep, but suited for his language. _A shudder runs down my entire body._ No! Please, no, not again! I'm too far from Christopher's shack. I really shouldn't have wandered off, but his kid was getting on my bloody nerves. He's so fooking cheerful. I kind of expected Christopher to come after me, to try and follow me, but… _Another shudder comes and my heartbeat speeds up._ I stumble 'round the back of a hut, hiding behind a cardboard extension and a huge trashcan, readying myself for the pain. Pain that … didn't come.

What the fook? What happened to make me shiver? I was walking, to nowhere, just walking. And then I thought about Christopher. His voice. _My breath comes faster as I shudder again._ It almost has an undertone of something powerful, dominant. Making the part of me that's prawn squirm and submit._ That place, that I've been trying to ignore since it formed, begs for my attention. It almost pulses along with my quickened heartbeat._ I can hear someone routing around in the rubbish close by, but all I can think of is Christopher, touching, taking, dominating. _I whimper shamelessly, as my dick pushes against the fabric around it, that hidden slit between my legs seeking friction._

A large prawn, brown with black flashes, rounds the corner of the shack, eyes growing confused as they fixed on me, then clouding over with a look I've never seen before. _My body jerks slightly, moving toward him, the smell of him filling my head with a mindless kind of want, need, desire, my feelings coming out in a keen._ _He comes closer, growling in a way that makes my knees go weak and I have to lean up against the wall at my back._ This can't be me, can it? _I keen again, as he gets close enough for me to feel the heat coming of him._ That sound, I know what it means. It means I'm begging for him to, to _dominate_ me. _I moan at the idea, prawn hand curling around his forearm. _

I try and reason with my body, but it's working by itself, my human hand undoing the fly on my trousers. Wriggling out of them, I can _feel_ the prawn watching me. The scent in my head gets impossibly thicker, headier, as he picks me up and supports me against the wall of the shack with one hand as the other strokes the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder, drawing another keen from me as I close my mismatched eyes. I wrap my legs around his thin hips as his binary arms come out to stroke the carapace that juts out of my torso. I can feel _something_, hard and warm, so close to where it should be but not _quite_ there. When I try to wriggle towards it, the prawn's binary arms hold me up, away from it, making a smug noise at my reaction, his tentacled hand coming down to stroke _right there, yes, don't stop, please, oh please, want, need, pleasepleaseplease… _

And then it just _gone_ and I slump quickly down the wall to land to the floor, landing painfully. I open my eyes in time to see him backing away from a figure stood in front of me, mandibles whirring and clicking too fast for me to understand. The figure turns as I'm trying to get to my feet, working through the pain and lust fogging up my mind. I suppress a keen as I see Christopher's face, his amber eyes staring down at me with a fire that burns me inside. I feel the blush spreading down my cheeks and my neck whilst he looks at me, my shirt open and my trousers forgotten on the floor as I prop myself against the wall, biting down on my lip to stop myself from making that embarrassing noise. "What are you doing?" Sharp clicks that cut into me, demanding an answer. "I-I don't know." I look away; trying to escape the lust and shame his gaze brings to me. "I-I'm sorry." I mutter, feeling the need to apologize for my behavior, even though I still don't know why it's his business, even though I still ache for some one to …

"Wikus, do you know why you did this? Why you let him touch you?" His eyes are searching my face, his body rigid as he stands just out of my reach. "I n-needed, I…" My slit pulses and I can smell my own arousal as I think of what I wanted, what attracted the first prawn to me. _Christopher_. Doing … _things_, beautiful things to my body with his. He reaches for me then, as I start to lose my focus. "It is your time, Wikus. Your cycle is upon you." His voice sounds concerned, but all I can concentrate on is him, touching me, close to me, supporting my weight. I trace my prawn hand down his chest plates, loving the way he reacts to it. "What does that mean, exactly?" My voice sounds flirtatious, _sultry._ "It means that your body is seeking a mate, a partner to create offspring with." Ok, slow down! "Offspring!" I demand, my mind still trying to regain control of my body, which was whole-heartedly enthusiastic about the concept of offspring with Christopher. He bends down and picks up my trousers, pulls them to my thighs until it registers that he's trying to get me dressed again. My mind agrees and I reach down to finish what he started, even as my body protests at the development.

I keen out _again, _I mean that's just_ embarrassing, _as his arms wrap 'round me and pick me up, bridal style, holding me to his chest. "What the _fook, _man?" I exclaim. He looks down at me and I spot a gleam of emotion in his eyes. "Your state will excite the others. Although not all of them are as slow as they pretend to be, some have given over to their instincts. Act like you are mine." Shock, what, _yes, please, yours… _"Er… why?" I ask, as I try to struggle out of his hold. "If you were mine, they would not dare touch you."Heat flushes through me as I remember the times I'd seen a small group of prawns gathered around two others, the onlookers radiating jealousy as the couple in the centre did something that didn't come up much in polite conversation. As a human I thought of it as another reason the prawns were inferior, but now I realize just how _mindless_ it is, how instinctual, primal even. I _need_ so badly that it _aches_, deep inside.

I move closer to Christopher, putting my arms around his neck, as we travel through the outskirts of the district. I can almost feel the eyes of other prawns watching me, antennae twitching as they tasted the pheromones that my body is putting out. A few move forward to get a closer look, some coming out of their shacks, but all of them back off the minute they realize that I'm with Christopher. A grayish-brown prawn, still a teenager, but already taller than me (if I wasn't being carried around, that is), comes a little too close, his eyes glazed over. I expect Christopher to do something, but instead two older prawns come and pull him backwards into a hut. A fourth, similar to the teen in build and coloring, comes forward and bows his head to Christopher. "I apologize for my _claxrictrrrr, Skirilla._" Christopher just nods, not shocked at the amount of servitudein the prawn's voice.

When we reach his hut, he kicks the door open and dumps me onto the bundle of blankets he sleeps in. Oliver was sat on the floor, fiddling with some gadget or other. "Little one, go to Al-Ekrand's and stay there until I collect you." Oliver looked confused, but got up and walked toward the door. "Is Wikus sick again?" He asked over his shoulder. Christopher made a non-committal noise and shooed him out. As he approached me I could sense his desire, taste it almost. "Wikus, you must calm yourself." He got closer to the nest he dumped me in and I can't help but feel _something_ as he stands over me.

I can feel my legs spreading without my consent, my human hand scrabbling at my trousers again, but I really don't care. I want to submit to him, he wants me and I want him and it would feel _so good_. "Christopher, please_._ I-I, oh, _please_!" A growl escapes Christopher as his gazes lowers from my face to my spread legs. "You do not know what you are asking for, Wikus." He sounds restrained, like he's having trouble holding back. "I don't care, Christopher, _Skirilla_." I imitate the clicks the prawn from earlier used to address him. It seems to push him over the edge; he hunkers down onto his haunches, then pulls me down so I'm under him. Batting away my fingers, which are still fumbling with the button, he somehow manages to get them undone whilst he's worshiping my exoskeleton shoulder with his mouth-parts. He pulls the trousers off my legs and I wriggle them all the way off, then kick them away.

One of his hands ghosts over my erection before reaching back and rubbing over that spot, _right there_, and I arch off the nest, keen for more and he growls and then he's there and, oh wow, _right there, please, my Christopher, my Skirilla, more please, oh, oh, yes, oh God, right there,… _and everything is just bliss and it felt so good. Christopher lets out a long, growled version of my name as I let out a choked whimper, feeling my orgasm rip through me. Christopher's face is the last thing I see before I give myself over to the abyss of sleep that loomed beneath me. I give him a feeble smile and a murmured "Thank you" just before it claims me.

_**TBC**_

_**Luv, Phe xxxxx**_


	2. Chapter 2 : Look What We've Done

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn (now with plot **_**and**_** angst) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, sexual content and **_**lots **_**of language.**

**A.N.:**** Wow, morning after. Ak-waaard. I had a hard time finding a song for this chapter. It was gonna be something about trying to choose between to different people. Then I heard my brother playing this and I just knew it was the right song. But, please when you hear the lyrics, "be someone, be human", try think of the someone and the human as two different concepts. Still no mustache. After the first splitter (xxCxWxx) the cursive is Wikus' Poleepkwa half and the bold is his human half. Angst and abandonment abound, my academic ant-eaters. **

**Chapter Two: Look What We've Done (Human-Ellie Goulding)**

Where am I? Okay. It's warm and really quite pleasant, but something's sticking into my torso and it still stinks, but less, so I'm guessing I'm in Christopher's shack. _Skirilla._ And that came from … where exactly? I'm curled around … I'm gonna open my eyes now, and I'm _not _gonna be curled around a Prawn. Oh,_ shit,_ I'm curled around Christopher. _My Skirilla._ Okay, I've gotta figure out what the _fook _happened last night, even though I really don't feel like moving, and why every time I think about Chri-_Skirilla_ that name keeps popping up.

I think about trying to scut away but apart from a rock or something sticking into my torso on the right side I feel really … content, happy. I wiggle away from it and settle back down in Skirilla's embrace, my eyes drifting closed, my body relaxing and going all languid … and then jerking and curling in _really _fooking close to Skirilla when I here the sound of gunfire. Skirilla's eyes fly open and he looks down at me curled around him and makes I noise that I swear is almost possessive, and I don't really mind, even though I _know_ I should. He detaches me gently, the prawn equivalent of a smirk on his features when I make a noise of lose, and that has got to _stop_.

I'm a human being, not some little puppy dog! I pull the rest of the way back from him roughly, squirming out of the nest of blankets built around us, getting all the way out before a realize that I haven't got any trousers on. I yelp and try to cover myself, even though a niggling part of my brain likes him watching me. My eyes scan the shack before spotting the trousers. I walk over and make to pick them up, but my head jerks up looks out of the window as another round of gunfire starts. My gaze sweeps the hut anxiously before falling on Skiri-_Christopher,_ his name is Christopher.

"Where's Oliver?" I ask, try to keep the concern out of my voice, but failing miserably. Even though he gets on my nerves, the kid's really grown on me. "My little one is at Al-Ekrand's hut." I recognize the name from yesterday, remember him shooing Oliver out the door as I lay on his bed, waiting for him to … I force myself not to think about that, roughly pulling up my trousers. "Is he safe there?" And, so returns the worried parent act. Parent, like step-parent, as in coupled with the kid's biological parent, as in coupled with Christopher, _Skirilla_… Oh, God, that train of thought has got to _stop!_

"Yes, he is safe. Why are you so concerned?" His face is inquisitive, but with a mischievous undertone I don't like. I fumble with the remaining buttons of my scraggly shirt trying to close it. "So, are we gonna do this or not, man?" He looks confused. "I'm gonna go to Obisanjo and buy us some weapons and we're gonna get in to MNU. Then you're gonna fly up to your ship and fix me and I can go back to Tanya."

He just looks at me and suddenly going back to Tanya seems _insignificant_. She had told me that she trusted me, had faith in me, but how long was that really going to last. I mean, how long is this fixing thing gonna take, huh? I loved her but I knew she was I person who loved companionship. She'd probably move on in time, still remember me, maybe, as I would her, my special angel.

Slowly, Skirilla, Christopher, I don't know, nodded and pulled out a wad of money. "Did you steal that?" My mouth, and my MNU training, kicks in before my brain does. Skirilla gives me a look and I shut up straight away, looking down at my bare feet. I search around for my shoes, which I don't even remember removing last night, that's how far gone I must have been, when we did _that_. Together. Me and that _prawn_. My earlier dislike for prawns is creeping back into my psyche.

I check myself in the mirror, but the only sign of my transformation is my amber eye. I rip a bandage of my arm and tie it round my head, finally finding a combination of positions that allows me to see through the gauze enough to walk, but won't allow people to see in. "I will leave my little one in the ship, then I will wait for you outside." He informs me. I turn to leave. "Wikus?" Christopher trills as I reach for the door. A wave of hate directed at him and myself surges through me as I look back at him. "Be careful." I nod and leave

xxCxWxx

As I'm walking toward Obisanjo's I try and get my head straight. I _do _love Tanya, but… _Skirilla._** But, I'm gonna be normal again. Be human again. **_The humans hurts us, kill us, take our children from us… _I remember my own actions, laughing happily as I watch a shack of eggs, children, slaughtered. **But I was just following orders! **_Orders from a human. _**There are too many prawns as it is. **_Our people are outnumbered by the humans three thousand, eight hundred and seventy two to one!_ **It's our planet! **_And the humans will not let us return to ours. We are prisoners! _**Well, Christopher's gonna save the prawns, fix me, and I can go back to my Tanya, huh? **_Do I really want her? I could have Skirilla… _**Fuck Christopher, man! I'm going home, he's going home, full fooking stop! **_But- _**Shut the fook up! I'm human, and I'm going back to Tanya!**

xxCxWxx

_Canon (and the end of the film) ensues. Minus the mustache. _

xxCxWxx

I can hide, I guess. Now I think about it, it wasn't the best of ideas. I mean, I've got nowhere to stay, nothing to eat and I've got a feeling that the rest of my transformation's gonna be really fooking painful. At least he got away. _Skirilla. Come back for me, and bring the vengeance of our people with you._

_**TBC**_

_**Luv, Phe xxxxx**_


	3. Chapter 3 : New Crowd

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn (now with plot **_**and**_** angst) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, sexual content and **_**lots **_**of language**

**A.N.: ****First of all I'd like to thank Ai-Sama for her review. Made my day. Also made my brothers look at me funny because of the little happy dance I pulled. Secondly, today you will be receiving a look at (my version) of the Poleepkwan society. Before you get the wrong impression, I'm not racist, but the fact that all the workers are mostly dark-coloring is just more convenient and in touch with the canon. Less angst today, but still some dual personality conflict. But, be warned, here there be transformation, my tremulous tangerines. **

**Chapter 3: New Crowd (You Need Me, I Don't Need You-Ed Sheeran)**

I can hear them fighting. All they seem to do is fight. Well, the workers fight. There's intelligence in a lot of the others, though. There aren't many blue and they mostly keep to themselves, but if anyone needs some kind of medical assistance you can bet they'll get a blue. The yellows are few and far between as well, but they seem to be almost guarding me, keeping me away from MNU. They don't talk to me much, apart from Kieran. He's the one that found me a place to stay.

Most of the reds are absolute brutes, but the best fighters here. Some of them are all right, though. I live with one of them, the Al-Ekrand that Christopher mentioned. He's nice, in an odd sort of way. He was on the mother ship when it first got here, so he's a bit older than the majority, but it really doesn't show. He's a brilliant fighter and he's been trying to teach me how to look after myself, which is great 'cause I really wanna learn. I can run like no other person on this Earth, when my life's on the line, but these days I tend more toward 'face your fears'.

He doesn't know much about medicine so he's been taking me to a blue named Hank who's been helping me through my transformation. Hank's the best we in the district. Seems all the best knew Skirilla. When Al took me to see him he just got to work; didn't bat an eyelid at the fact that I look like a mix-and-match between human and Poleepkwa. That's what they're called, apparently. Po-leep-kwa. _My people._

And then there's that … voice, mind-set, which is completely Poleepkwa, not to mention totally in love with Skirilla. It gets in more often than not, until I'm thinking like it all the time. Not that it doesn't have a point. What MNU does is wrong, I see that now. No matter the orders, the paycheck, the _expectations_, that are greasing the slippery slope between doing your job and committing genocide, people really should have drawn the line at slaughtering unborn children.

Seems like MNU have figured out we mean business now, after everything that happened. The Nigerians, too. Since Obisanjo died, no more Poleepkwa have gone missing during deals, no more of us getting eaten. And someone's been stealing the weapons from them. Whenever you mention it Al goes all smug, in an I-know-something-you-don't way.

The charities have moved back in. Ever since the mother ship left, people all around the world have suddenly gained a collective conscious about us. They can't throw enough money at the charities for us. We're not living in the lap of luxury, but there's enough food to go around. Some of us, Al and I included, have been stock-pilling extras for when _it_ happens.

It. That's almost a name now. It._ It_ is when the mother ship comes back, _Skirilla comes back for the people, for me, takes us home. _And I should keep thinking, just keep thinking. 99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer, _ooooow, _take one down, pass it around, _oh, oh, fook, my head, _98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles, _my face, what's happening to my face!, _bottles, _fook,_ on the wa_ahhh, ow, fook, shit, fook fookity fook, ow, is that my … Oh, God! Oh, fook it, ow, ow, ow! Help, help, it hurts! It hurts so much! Kill me, kill me! Please, for God's sake, just kill me…_

xxCxWxx

"Am I, er…?" My clicking is disjointed and even I can't really understand it. Hank doesn't look up from where he's tapping on my exoskeleton, instead making a whirring sound I've associated to humming. "Er…" I fumble, trying to find a way to say it when I can barely operate my mouth-parts. "Oh, spit it out!" Al grumbles from his corner. "Am I, er, nice? To look at?" Now he looks up. "Yes."

He turns to Al. "Al-Ekrand, would you go outside, please?" Al looks quizzical, but does what was asked. "Spread your legs." Hank asks. "_What_! Nu uh, man, not happening!" Hank sighs and gives me an exasperated look. "I am a _teklad, _Wikus. A, the human word is, doc-tor. I am doing a full exam. That is all." I just stare it him for a few seconds. **No way, man, nu uh! You're a fooking prawn! I remember what the last one did!** _Skirilla… _**Who I should really stop mooning after! For fook's sake, man!** _He is a Poleepkwa, I trust him, he would not hurt me._** Riiiiiight (!)**

Scrunching my eyes closed, I listen to my Poleepkwa side and let Hank see … _there._ He fiddles around a lot, which feels really fooking odd. When Hank reappears in my line of sight, he looks rather pleased with himself. "I thought so." He says smugly. "What?" _Please, please, pleasepleaseplease… _"You are _niklaket_. " _Please, please, mean pregnant, please please-_**Pregnant! Why would I wanna be fooking pregnant? **_Skirilla, my Skirilla, his offspring, please… _"You are of a … higher class than most." **Thank fook for that! **

"I'm, like, nobility?" I look at him, trying to figure out how to stay impassive when I feel both relieved and disappointed at the same time. "Yes. We will protect you and follow your orders. Especially the _graketd." _ I really gotta start learning the lingo. "The, er… yellow ones, like Kieran?" I ask. Hank just nods.

xxCxWxx

MNU have moved back in, giving out eviction notices again. I keep seeing my ex-colleagues, people I used to know, giving out illegal paperwork to my people. My people. But my people don't always set good examples either. I can see someone going up to Kreklasn's door. That's _bad._ Kreklasn is really grouchy and hates humans, not to mention ten feet tall. MNU nick-named him Goliath. Whoever that is going up to his door, they're in _big_ trouble. I go over, slowly, trying not to attract attention, 'cause ya know, prawns with no stamps get shot. "E-excuse me? M-Mr. Davies?" Oh, bloody hell. Fundiswa. The new director must be the play-a-deadly-prank-on-the-new-guy tipe. I edge closer. Oh, _come on! _He hasn't even got an escort! I ran up and barge in between him and Goliath just as he starts to loom over him. "Kreklasn, _back off. _Back off _now!_" He looks kinda stunned but does what I asked. "Sign the paper." Now, he looks at me incredulously, but when all I do is glare at him, he scrawls over the paper in front of him, then slams the door in our faces. "Th-thank you." Fundiswa stammers. "Wanna thank me, human? Do me a favor?" Now he looks worried. "What?" Okay, here goes nothing… "Do you have access to the MNU systems" I barley wait for him to nod before carrying on. "Put in a prawn named … Victor Dawson, and we'll call it square, okay?" I'm kinda surprised when he nods but, I knew he was a good kid. "Thank you." He mutters again, before going back to the convoy.

_**TBC**_

_**Luv, Phe xxxxx**_


	4. Chapter 4 : Want To Walk In The Sun

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn (now with plot, angst **_**and hyperactivity**_**) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, violence, sexual content and language**

**A.N.: **** Er… I started a blog; the link is on my profile, so now my A.N. will be kinda short, 'cause my ramblings are all on there. Again, bold is human mind, but the cursive is mostly him being sarcastic and imitating others. Poleepkwa!Wikus won't be represented much anymore, 'cause it's mixing in with his normal thoughts. This chapter contains hyperactivity, my humongous hollyhocks.**

**Castes:**

**Teklad: Medic, doctor (blue Poleepkwa)**

**Niklaket: Leader caste, nobility (green Poleepkwa)**

**Graketd: Royal guards and Advisors (yellow Poleepkwa)**

**Lexcrant: Messengers (white Poleepkwa) **

**Krelaktyden: Military (red Poleepkwa) **

**Peclastr: Worker drones (beige, gray, brown, black Poleepkwa) Still not racist!**

**Chapter 4: Wanna Walk In the Sun (Girls Just Wanna Fun-Cyndi Lauper)**

"Will you sit _still_?" The dark-gray Poleepkwa clicks, exasperated at my wriggling. I just make a sulky noise and tap my feet on the floor in a fast beat. Al stares at me. "If I mess this up, MNU will shoot you point blank in the face." I make a disbelieving expression. "I've been sneaking around for almost _two months_. I've got to much energy. You seriously want me to sit still!" I tap my tentacles on my knees.

Fundiswa had gone back to Goliath's hut, foolish human, and told him that "I did your green friend his favor, tell him we're square." He was _really_ pissed at being treated like a _lexcrant_ which, apparently, means messenger. Kieran's lent up against a wall in the corner, at my side as usual. Since the _graketd_ found out about me being a _niklaket_, one of them has been hanging around me every minute of the bloody day. There's apparently some long standing feud between _graketd_ and _Krelaktyden_, but Al let's Kieran in. Personally I think it's 'cause Al's sweet on him, but of course he won't admit it.

It's kinda weird when you actually, _really_, think about it. Most of the Poleepkwa around me, I identify them as guys. _I_ identify as a guy. Yet we all have, _oh, what's the word scientists use_, cloacas? Something like that.

But, everyone wants to protect me. From MNU, from the Nigerians, from _peclastr_ that have gone a bit cuckoo… I just wanna have some bloody fun, get to know the neighbors, but _nooooooo, it's too dangerous!_ They say 'cause I _showed leadership in the presence of untrustworthy individuals_ it's not safe for me to just _wander around blatantly flaunting myself_. I mean, what gives him the right to act like my father! I mean, even my father doesn't act like that! Not to mentionhe keeps looking me up and down and muttering to himself, sometimes just coming up to me and starts measuring me or taking my temperature. It's probably for my own good, but it's getting on my nerves.

"Done!" I bolt up out of my seat. "No, you have to let it dry!" I roll my eyes then slump down on my bed, before getting an idea and shooting back up again. "How much do I owe you?" He looks at me for a few seconds. "Nothing." My mouth-parts flutter silently, which is basically our way of showing that we're speechless. "B-but, you been here _ages!_" He seriously isn't charging me for this! "You're our _Jikrenkld_ aren't you? I'm not gonna charge you. Now let it dry fifteen minutes then you can do what you want." He walked out the hut, leaving Kieran and Al to stare after him, then at me.

"Is that bad? _Jikrenkld? _That's bad, isn't it?" They just look at me, both of them speechless. "Our _Jikrenkld,_ Wikus, a _Jikrenkld _is our leader, our commander, our … king." Okay… was not expecting that_._

XxCxWxX

Hank knocks on the door maybe ten minutes later, asking to see my stamp. News sure does travel fast in the District. Al gets straight to the point whilst Hank starts doing his doctor thing again, scraping the plating on my shoulders. "Hank, did you know that some of the _peclastr _think Wikus is our _Jikrenkld?" _ Hank looks at them for a few seconds and then nods.

"There's a possibility that he is, at least, a _Hekrandrt_. In the absence any other niklaket, such as Skirilla," At his name, my heart keened out for Skirilla. **Which is stupid, because I'm going back to Tanya. I am, right? "**He could act as the district's _Jikrenkld._" They all looked at me.

"So, I'm a what? " Hank pulls a face, like he keeps forgetting I've got no fooking idea what he's talking about. "Our … not necessarily a primary leader, more a separate kind of leader who bears children for the _Jikrenkld_ and sometimes governs in his absence." I just stare at him. _Jikrenkld's children, Skirilla's children. _**Tanya, what ****about ****Tanya…**

"I'm your bloody _queen!"_ I should really sound more pissed about that. "Technically, you are our _Jikrenkld, _at least until Skirilla gets back." I just look at Kieran. "Does this mean you and your boys are gonna be working double time to keep me safe now?" Kieran just nods. I realize he barley ever talks, except to say 'Hello? or 'Good Bye'. "All right then, you might as well show me around." Another nod.

XxCxWxX

Kieran and I are walking through the district with a teenaged _graketd _called Jack, who's pointing everything out to me and telling me what it is.

"Charity stalls for food."

"…"

"That one does the best cow's heads."

"…"

"The _teklad_ section."

"…"

"That's Hank's hut" Kieran adds.

"…"

"This is our section. That's the shack I live in with my _yetrkl,_ ya know, my family."

"…"

"Those are the _teklad _that the humans brought in. I don't trust them_."_

"…"

"You won't go near them, will you?" Jack sounds _really _worried, but I think he has reason to be scared of humans, after everything that's happened.

"Of course I won't, Jack." Jack gives me a really happy expression, I mean you can almost see the grin in his eyes, and keeps going with the tour.

"That's the basketball court."

"…" "Wait, you have a _basketball court_?"

"Yeah."

"Oh-kay. Can… d-do you guys know how to play?"

"Yeah. Duh!"

"But we don't anymore because there were too many fights and all the balls broke." Kieran says, looking at the pitch.

"I'll bet they did." I mutter.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that." Kieran looked between me and Jack, trying figure out why we were both trying not to laugh.

"Nothing." Turns out, teens are teens, even if there nine feet tall bug aliens.

_**TBc**_

_**Luv, Phe xxxxx**_


	5. Chapter 5 : Classroom

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn (now with plot) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, violence, sexual content and language**

**A.N.:**** Check the blog, 'cause long A.N. ramblings are long. Bold is human mind. Now; do you need education, my egregious emus? **

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leader caste, nobility (green Poleepkwa)**

**Teklad: Medic, doctor (blue Poleepkwa)**

**Graketd: Royal guards and Advisors (yellow Poleepkwa)**

**Lexcrant: Messengers (white Poleepkwa) **

**Krelaktyden: Military (red Poleepkwa) **

**Peclastr: Worker drones (beige, gray, brown, black Poleepkwa) Still not racist!**

**Jikrenkld: King, Primary Leader**

**Hekrandrt: Queen, Vice President Figure**

**Claxrictrrrr: Term of Endearment for Offspring**

**Yetrkl: Family**

**Riklasnt: Parents **

**Chapter Five: Classroom (Another Brick In The Wall-Pink Floyd) **

You gotta be kidding me. First, they started buying us _gourmet_ fooking cat food. I didn't even know they made gourmet cat food! Now, they're trying to teach us to read and write. Most of us can, at least, spell. Even the really slow ones can read stuff like "Cat Food" and "No Non-Humans" although the have varying amounts of understanding on what it actually means. They've brought in mountain of paper and big blackboards and picture-books with stuff like 'Spot; the big red dog'. The Poleepkwa keep trying to burn them or eat them. It's actually pretty funny to watch.

Some of the volunteers are actually really enthusiastic about looking after us. Right now they're telling some of the teens how they're making District 10 better, which I'm happy about. I don't know that much about it a part from the fact that it had some very Auschwitz vibes. They say more land's been bought and that better accommodations are being built. I can't see Jack amongst them. I wonder where he is.

XxCxWxX

I find Jack outside the hut he pointed out to me on my tour, sat with two small Poleepkwas, maybe about seven years old, their exo-skeletons white stained slightly with yellow, who are playing with some things that might be toys that they obviously salvaged from the landfills. I tip my head to the left and look at them. They're almost exactly the same, apart from the fact that one of them only has one eye and one of them is a darker yellow.

"Wikus!" Jack gets up from where he's sat when he spots me, on a giant spool, probably originally from some building site. "This is Zeke." He points it the child with one eye. "And this is Zack." He points at the other child. Both of them are looking at me now "They're my _yetrkl."_ I remember the word from last time. Family. Doesn't he have parents? "Boys? Be polite to Wikus. He's _Jikrenkld_." Zack's eyes light up and he gets up off the floor. "Are you really?" Zeke just trills, bored, and goes back to his toys. Jack snorts in disbelief, but his face is sad.

I crouch down, bringing myself to Zack's level. "I guess I am, kid." He does this little dance on the spot, I mean really, I'm a little taken back here. "Would you like to see my toys, _Jikrendl?"_ God, this kid was fooking cute. I mean, I'm not crazy about kids, but between Zack and Oliver I think Poleepkwan kids are my weakness. "Sure. But, call me Wikus." Zak tilts his head. "Viii-cuss?" Eh, close enough.

XxCxWxX

Zack and Zeke are sat a little way away on the ground, already bored of they're new visitor, but Zack keeps looking toward me. I give him a little wave, and he waves back.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Wikus"

"Why aren't …?"

"Why aren't my _riklasnt_ still around?"

"Yeah, man."

"The humans took them from me."

"MNU? Or the Nigerians?"

"The humans."

O-kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

"That why you don't want me to go to their _teklad_?"

"Yes."

Zeke makes a distressed sound. Looking over we see that one of they're toys has broken. Jack looks unhappy.

"I am all they have. And I'm fucking terrible."

"Hey." I look at the 'toys' that are strewn around. "Boys?" When they look up at me I beckon them over. Zeke is carrying the broken toy with him. "Do you know that I can make models?" I ask quietly. Zack shook his head, whilst Zeke just stared. "Now, anything in particular you'd like me to make?"

XxCxWxX

I made her a flower. I don't know if she got it. I sent one of the lexcrant out with it. To say goodbye. _Goodbye, my darling angel. I loved you and I still do. But what is the love of an animal to an angel?_

_**TBC-**_

_**Love Phe xxxxx**_


	6. Chapter 6 : Now We'll Never Know

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn (now with plot) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, violence, sexual content and language**

**A.N.:**** Check the blog. This chapter is set within the last chapter, if that makes sense. The song I used, I didn't use it for the lyrics, but for the feel, the message. Prepare yourselves for sadness, my sorrowful subjects.**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leader caste, nobility (green Poleepkwa)**

**Teklad: Medic, doctor (blue Poleepkwa)**

**Graketd: Royal guards and Advisors (yellow Poleepkwa)**

**Lexcrant: Messengers (white Poleepkwa) **

**Krelaktyden: Military (red Poleepkwa) **

**Peclastr: Worker drones (beige, gray, brown, black Poleepkwa) Still not racist!**

**Jikrenkld: King, Primary Leader**

**Hekrandrt: Queen, Vice President Figure**

**Yetrkl: Family**

**Riklasnt: Parent/s**

**Claxrictrrrr: Term of Endearment for Offspring**

**Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying.**

**Chapter 6: Now We'll Never Know (Stole-Kelly Rowland)**

II look at the bent-up tin can in my hands; I'd shaped this one into a car. I pick up another tin and some other bits and bobs I collected for this. Carefully, I shape it, making it into a delicate flower. _I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm letting her down; I can't let her down, I can't just let her go. _I crush the pretty ornament in my tentacles. I can feel the jagged edges against my fingers and the scarred stump where one's missing. _I did that for her, my Tanya, my angel. _

I pick up another can and try and think up another toy for the twins, but my mind keeps drifting back to Tanya. I hurl the can at the dirt. _I can't give upon her! We, we were trying…_ I try not to think about it, Tanya looking at me through her blond hair on night as we watched a movie, blushing even as she tried to seem casual.

It had been _the_ dream; me, that silly little man, who even his parents didn't expect much from, married to my beautiful angel. I had the job, the house, we were gonna have kids, with her pretty blond hair and my eyes. _She always loved my eyes._ I catch sight of my reflection in the speckled, cracked mirror Al found to show me my Poleepkwa face. I run my tentacles over the antennae, the spikes of the exo-skeleton on my shoulders and chest, my face… _God; this is the face of an animal, how can I love her looking like this? I love her like this, but she deserves better. _

I hear a mournful clicking noise coming from my own mouthparts. _I can't even cry for what I lost anymore. _I sink to the floor and wrap my arms around my knees, feeling so fooking _empty_, staring at the animal in the mirror. _That's me, that animal. _I hear a knock on the door to the shack. "Go –_click_- away!" I manage. "Wikus? Are you all right?" Jack; sweet, protective, _young_ Jack. "Wikus? Are you _hecrtkl_?" He carefully opens the door, when he sees my on the floor, trying to curl into myself, to disappear, but still looking at the _thing_ in the mirror. Jack comes over carefully, slowly like he's gonna startle me and I'm gonna run away.

"Wikus…" He's really out of his depth here; he's got no clue why I'm even upset. "I still love her, my human mate. She was so pretty, ya know. So pretty and she was mine… And know I don't look right anymore, I'm _different_ from her, so different, but I still love her. I don't wanna give up on her, Jack, but I know it's gonna be a long time and even then Skirilla might not be able to put me back…" Jack kneels down behind me and hugs me. I'm so tiny that even Jack's bigger than me, but it feels nice to be held by someone. "She's lucky, that you love her so much."

"But, do I deserve to love her? I mean, look what I did to the Poleepkwa before I changed!"

"And now you're sorry about what you did! And we forgive you." Hearing that; that they had forgiven me for _genocide_, I break down, unwrapping my arms from my knees and wrapping them 'round Jack, clicking at random intervals, my breath moving irregularly out of my lungs. Jack just lets me hold him as I mourn for my angel, my people and myself. All Jack can do is hold me as I let it all out.

XxCxWxX

Once I finally stopped, I let go of Jack, suddenly embarrassed about the hugging thing. He just gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Ya know what you were saying, about how you look?" All I can do is nod. "You've obviously got no idea what most of the others have been talking about since I took you on your tour." He winks, a very human gesture, whilst all I can do is stare at him. I gotta get back to my _yetrkl._ Darren will be around if you wanna go out."

"Er… why?" I look at him, tilting my head. "Cycle." Is all he says, and makes a face. I realize that, from what I've been told, mine should be coming around again. That might explain the emotional break-down. I wave Jack out, promising to make sure Darren's with me if I leave.

I pick the tin back up, and craft another flower.

_Goodbye, Tanya._

**TBC- **

**Love, Phe xxxxx**


	7. Chapter 7 : Security Gaurds

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn (now with plot) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, violence, sexual content and language**

**A.N.:**** If you guys don't want to leave a long ramble on the reviews, but have something to say, I **_**think**_** you can comment on the blog. Plus, if any of you can draw and want to help out, I'd love some artwork to post on the blog, XD. Okay, on to the story! More society, my salutatious senbons! **

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leader caste, nobility (green Poleepkwa)**

**Teklad: Medic, doctor (blue Poleepkwa)**

**Graketd: Royal guards and Advisors (yellow Poleepkwa)**

**Lexcrant: Messengers (white Poleepkwa) **

**Krelaktyden: Military (red Poleepkwa) **

**Peclastr: Worker drones (beige, gray, brown, black Poleepkwa) Still not racist!**

**Jikrenkld: King, Primary Leader**

**Hekrandrt: Queen, Vice President Figure**

**Yetrkl: Family**

**Riklasnt: Parent/s**

**Claxrictrrrr: Term of Endearment for Offspring**

**Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying.**

**Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage. **

**Gajltri: Word that designates an action. Begins with F in English.**

**Chapter Seven: Security Guards (Panda Bear-Owl City)**

"Thank you, Darren, Terry, er…" I falter, staring at the graketd in front of me. _Bugger, what's his name again?_ I look at him, waiting for a name to click with the face. "Mitch, Jikrenkld." _Oh, that's it!_ "Right! Sorry! Mitch." I knocked on the door of the hut before turning back to the three graketd. "Thank you for protecting me, guys. That'll be all for today I think." They just nod and leave.

I turn back to the door. "Are you two doing anything pornographic?" I hear a disbelieving sound and an embarrassed trill. I don't think that we're _ever_ gonna forget what they were doing last time I walked in without knocking. Not that I know what they were actually doing, 'cause, ya know, apart from 'insert organ of one into hole of another' I have no clue how Poleepkwa have sex. Or date. Or get married.

I make an amused sound as I see them, sat on opposite sides of the hut, obviously to prove some kind of point._ Jeez, maybe I should move out. Give them some space? _"It's getting worse. I've not met half of them and I've already run out of memory space. How do I remember who's … civilized and who's not? There's just … too much to take in at once." I slump down on my nest, exasperated.

Kieran squinted slightly, which I'd learnt meant he was trying to remember something. "I saw a human the other day, one of the volunteers, with markings on his skin. When I asked him, he said they were _tattoo_." Kieran sounds out the unfamiliar human word slowly, trying to get the feel of it. "I thought about that, but it would just be marking you, like MNU did."

Kieran looked at me, tipped his head to the side; confusion. Then just shook his head. "You don't understand. This." He tapped the MNU stamp. "This is a mark of suppression, imprisonment. Being marked by our Jikrenkld, that would be an honor to us." It's my turn to tip my head to one side, thinking about what Kieran told me. In the end I just sigh. "I'll think about. What's for supper?"

XxCxWxX

"What do you think?" I ask, fiddling with the toy car. "I, at least, would be honored to bare your mark, Wikus." I feel myself getting all embarrassed. As friendly as I am with Jack, I still remember the time that, after he held me, he, well, I'm not actually sure _what_ that was. I think about that jock in my high school, who tattooed his girlfriend's name on his arm, and push the thought away.

"There's something else." Jack looks up from his brothers, who are scuffling with each other on the floor. "It's Al and Kieran. I think they're getting serious." Jack's eyes lit up. "Ya think they'll become _rekhalat_?" Aaaaaaaaand, there goes my head again.

"They'll … er, partner, promise themselves to each other." I look at him, still quizzical. "What does that entail, exactly?" Jack taps his tentacles on his knees, thinking. "Well, two Poleepkwa and their yetrkl gather before one of the niklaket and vow to not couple with others and protect each other and their offspring from any danger that they may face." _Oh, so kinda like marriage. _I nodded at Jack showing that I understand.

He has to leave for a second, to settle a dispute between the boys. When he came back, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So you think they've _gajltri_ yet?" He whispers. I do a very good impression of a cough before it degenerates into laughter. I shake my head as I make slashing movements with my hands, because I can't speak. It's been so long since I laughed properly. It's probably the same for Jack, 'cause in the end we both end up slipping down to the floor, at which point we're ambushed by spiky little bundles of childish fun, wanting to know what's so funny.

After untangling ourselves from the boys and seat ourselves back down, Jack looks at me, almost cautiously. "Maybe, when we move to the new district, you could, ya know, share with me? It'd be doing me a big favor, actually; I'd get help with the kids, I wouldn't be so worried about you…" He trails off, looking away again. _Wow, that's really nice!_ **He wants in your pants!** _That's stupid; he's been practical, and helpful and nice and friendly… Plus, I don't even have pants! _

"Um, that'd be great, Jack!" Jack makes a happy noise, and Zeke looks up. "What's happening?" He looks between us. "C'mere." He beckons. "When we move to the new district, I was wondering if you guys would mind Wikus sticking around, ya know, with us." Zeke looks unconvinced, but Zack jumps up and down on the spot. "Really? Really, Wikus, you're staying?" _Oh, wow, that's kinda adorable_. "Yeah, Zack, I'm sticking around for a while." As Zack wriggles up into my lap and wraps himself around me, I look over at Zeke. "If that's all right?" Zeke shrugs. "I guess." _That'll have to do for now. I'll grow on ya, kid._

XxCxWxX

I draw a life-size sketch of a Poleepkwa in the dirt, using Jack as a model. I draw the front back and both sides, doing my best with what I've got. "Thank you." I mummer when I'm done. I look at it, tipping my head sideways, in a gesture that's now incredibly familiar, and start to sketch.

XxCxWxX

"Okay, I just need you to sit still and be patient. Can you do that?" Jack, again my volunteer, is sprawled out on the dirt floor of Al's hut, next to my makeshift kit. He gives me an affirmative click, then rests his head on his arms and looks at the floor. I dip my tentacle, the tip trailing a scrap of rag, into a bowl of paint and carefully begin trailing it over Jack's exoskeleton. The paint dries as I go along, carefully working up to the intricate marking I'd perfected on my sketch.

XxCxWxX

I breathe out slowly, my gills flaring slightly, and step back. It's actually rather good. I based my drawings on what some of the older Poleepkwa told me about our home. They told me that, like Earth, there are many different habitats and that the hive all the Poleepkwa in the district came from was in the middle of a densely forested area. Most of them mentioned the vines, not only because they were aesthetically pleasing, but also because they were very useful for making things.

It had started out simple enough, but had ended up rather complicated, the intertwining vines not seeming to finish, just running endlessly from where they began at the base of what could _maybe_ be called Jack's spine. It had ended up symbolizing what I wanted it to. That we were proud to be different, to be Poleepkwa and that everyone who bore this mark could proudly contribute to our ramshackle little colony. "Is it any good?" Jack asked, looking over his angular shoulder. "It's perfect."

_**TBC **_

_**Lots of Love, Phe xxx**_


	8. Chapter 8 : Pack Up Your Troubles

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn (now with plot) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, violence, sexual content and language**

**AN: **** I really can't believe that I have ten reviews. It's brilliant! Hugs to YoshisSupport for sticking around, never mind the delay! Also thanks to ****all**** of you who have read, favorited or followed my story so far; you guys are the best! Now; how's about moving house, my miscellaneous mystics? **

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leader caste, nobility (green Poleepkwa): Nick-la-ket**

**Teklad: Medic, doctor (blue Poleepkwa)**

**Graketd: Royal guards and Advisors (yellow Poleepkwa)**

**Lexcrant: Messengers (white Poleepkwa) **

**Krelaktyden: Military (red Poleepkwa): Kre-lack-tie-den **

**Peclastr: Worker drones (beige, gray, brown, black Poleepkwa) Still not racist!**

**Jikrenkld: King, Primary Leader: (Soft J) Jik-ren-keld**

**Hekrandrt: Queen, Vice President Figure**

**Yetrkl: Family**

**Riklasnt: Parent/s creators (could be later on I refer to somebody as the Riklasnt of an invention) **

**Claxrictrrrr: Term of Endearment for Offspring: Clax-rick-tear (as in rip, not cry)**

**Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying: Heck-rat-kel**

**Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage. Also means partner (in that sense of the word). **

**Gajltri: Word that designates an action. Begins with F in English: Ga-gel -tri**

**Chapter Eight: Pack Up Your Troubles(Pack Up-Eliza Doolitle)**

It was time. The charities had brought in, under MNU supervision, fleets of trucks to ferry all my people to the new and improved district. I watched the red Krelaktyden patrol the edges of the crowd, most of them already marked with the flowing lines on their exoskeleton, each differing slightly from the others.

I didn't do all the markings; there are far too many Poleepkwa for me to perform such a … _delicate_ procedure. Some of the more artistically inclined teklad have been helping, because they have such steady tentacles. I look back over the rusted tin roofs of District 9. Not many of the civilized Poleepkwa are upset about leaving. There's been so much death and sadness here; how could they be upset about leaving?

I clutch Zack closer to my chest plates as I see a checkpoint coming up. "Yours?" The smiling lady, middle-aged and with friendly eyes, asks, motioning to Zack. "No, my friend's." I answer, tipping my head at Jack, how's behind me in the line, with Zeke in his arms and an almost defensive stance to his body. The little bits of the markings that peek out onto the front of his body making him look very dangerous.

"Oh. Name?" She asks me, looking almost disappointed. I gave her the name and number that Fundiswa was supposed to have assigned me; God, I hope he didn't fook up. The name … checked out. Sorta. "Er, says here you're an adult?" Oh, dear. "Yeah, I'm a little on the short side." I act all embarrassed, hoping she'll drop it. "That's okay, dear. Join that line there. And, er, leave that little on with his daddy."

I reluctantly drop Zack down close to Jack, and then pat him on the head. "See you there, kiddo." I had noticed that kids and their _riklasnt _were getting in different trucks. "Bye, Zeke." I offer, but the kid's still on the defensive. "Bye, Jack." I nod to Jack, who's been worrying about us splitting up. "Be careful, Wikus." I nod again and leave to join my line.

XxCxWxX

Mitch latches on to me as soon as I reach the line for adults. I just roll my eyes at him, looking at the markings on his back; I don't really remember painting his, but they don't look like a teklad did them. They're good, but they don't really have much originality.

"Mitch?" I ask, as I follow the path of his markings up and down his back with my eyes. "Yes, sir?" He says, turning around. "Who did your markings?" He looks proud. "My neighbor, sir. A Peclastr called Harvey. He's very good with his hands, for all his size." I don't know a Harvey, but he most be big if the Poleepkwa mentioned it.

"He's pretty tall, huh?" Mitch cocks his head, then shrugs. "I don't know how humans measure things, but I'd say he's as tall as Kreklasn." I can feel my mouth-parts flutter. _Bloody hell, that's big. And good with his hands … _**That's my cycle, right? I hope that's my cycle… **"They're really good." I say instead, turning Mitch 'round and gently tracing the black vines with my tentacles.

Mitch growls a little, and a scent hits me. _Oh, __**bugger.**__ That's a nice noise…_ "Er… s-sorry, Mitch." I say, hastily backing away from him. "No, I should apologize. I shouldn't have reacted like that." He looks kinda ashamed about it. "Er… Jack said I'm kinda ... er, appealing? So it's not really your fault." Mitch nods, and looks relieved that I'm not offended. _Why the hell would I be offended? It's not like I'm taken! _**Er... 'Cause I was human?**

"It's just, ya know, I heard that, er … _before_ you had a rekhalat among the humans" He was whispering, looking around. "Mitch, none of the humans are listening to you. But they might start if you keep acting suspicious." He looks ashamed again. "You guys have a lot to learn. But, ya know, so do I, so don't feel too bad about it." He whirred happily.

"My rekhalat … I have given up the possibility of being with her. Do you believe that even if I was turned back into a human, they would accept me? That she would? I still love her, but I don't think so, man." Mitch tipped his head, and then shrugged. "Do humans not mate for life? Do they not rekhalat or is it just different to Poleepkwa?" Er… okay, giving the talk to a ten foot tall hermaphrodite cricket.

"Humans, they can love for their entire lives, or they can stop loving one another. Stop liking each other. Start fighting and arguing and they don't won't to be rekhalat anymore. Turn to other people for comfort… It broke my heart, letting go of Tanya, and I'm not over her, but I'm needed here now. I'm Jikrenkld, right?" Mitch stood straighter. "Yes, sir, you are." _God, I feel so fooking __**badass **__when they treat me like this._

XxCxWxX

Big. That's my first thought on the new district. Big enough to comfortably house 1.8 million of my kind, plus more land for when the population grew, thanks to the ban on breeding without a license being lifted. I figure that pretty soon there'll be one hell of a hatchling boom. _If their all as adorable as Oliver and Zack, I'm in serious trouble... _I whir happily as I pull Zack up into my arms and heft the little backpack he was carrying onto my shoulder along with mine.

I'd already spread the word on how we were gonna place ourselves in this new district. The Krelaktyden were on the outskirts; a thin band guarding the perimeter. Peclastr, Lexcrant and Teklad next; the Peclastr's bulk filling up most of the odd, squat houses, but with Lexcrant and Teklad in two separate thin bands, mingling with them, but still apart. The center housed the Graketd and their Yetrkl; rekhalat or claxrictrrrr, some the same caste, some not.

Our house is no different from the others; all of them are mostly the same size. The reasonable Poleepkwa aren't fighting over houses with extra room, just picking houses suited for the size of their yetrkl and getting on with it. The others … well they'll fight over anything, they will. I can hear them already, yowling and clicking and generally being a nuisance.

_Home, sweet home._ I think as I drift off, not protesting when Zack snuggles into my nest, just encircling him with my arms and bring him close to my chest, my larger body curling 'round his smaller one protectively, chittering soothingly over the sounds of the senseless Poleepkwa causing havoc.

_TBC …_

_Lots of Love, Phe xxxxx_


	9. Chapter 9 : Broke All Your Promises

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn (now with plot) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, violence, sexual content and language**

**A.N.: ****More sadness. Sorry 'bout that, my rockin' reviewers.**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leader caste, nobility (green Poleepkwa): Nick-la-ket**

**Teklad: Medic, doctor (blue Poleepkwa)**

**Graketd: Royal guards and Advisors (yellow Poleepkwa)**

**Lexcrant: Messengers (white Poleepkwa) **

**Krelaktyden: Military (red Poleepkwa): Kre-lack-tie-den **

**Peclastr: Worker drones (beige, gray, brown, black Poleepkwa) Still not racist!**

**Jikrenkld: King, Primary Leader: (Soft J) Jik-ren-keld**

**Hekrandrt: Queen, Vice President Figure**

**Yetrkl: Family**

**Riklasnt: Parent/s creators (could be later on I refer to somebody as the Riklasnt of an invention) **

**Claxrictrrrr: Term of Endearment for Offspring: Clax-rick-tear (as in rip, not cry)**

**Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying: Heck-rat-kul**

**Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage. Also means partner (in that sense of the word). **

**Gajltri: Word that designates an action. Begins with F in English: Ga-gel –tri**

**Harlslnt:****The Mother-ship, but to them it doesn't mean "the mother-ship" it means, well, vaguely translated, the "Home-vessel" or "Home-transport": Har-le-slant (as in slope). **

**Lokrst: The designated leader of a group, it's a term of respect, kinda like "captain"; if someone who doesn't know him or is lower on the military structure addresses him they will do so with this title. **

**Chapter Nine: Broke All Your Promises (Jar Of Hearts-Christina Perri)**

_Come on, come on, please…_ I can't help it; I'm beginning to doubt Christopher. Most of the Marked had stop doing their everyday activities and are simply sat staring at the sky. Zack and Zeke were usually playing with a group of youngsters their age, instead today they're sitting at my feet, watching the sky like everyone else.

I don't even realize Jack's come back out of our house until his hand's on my shoulder, his face concerned. "Maybe … maybe you shouldn't get your hopes up. Wouldn't MNU have done something if they thought the_ harlslnt_ was coming back?" All I can do is look at him, my eyes pleading him. His close as he nods, he knows, everyone knows, because everyone's thinking the same thing; _he has to come back, he has to, he promised._

Jack sits down beside me, pulling Zack into his lap and, for once, he doesn't try and wriggle out of his grasp. I beckon to Zeke, who willing crawls up into my lap, letting me wrap my arms around him. He's got a whole lot bigger since I first met him, but he's still tiny in comparison to some of the full-grown Poleepkwa.

XxCxWxX

I lean gently against Jack as the sun starts to set behind the identical flat roofs of the district, darkness quickly followed by a chill. I usher Jack and the boys inside, Jack looking over his shoulder, even as I see the resigned look in his eyes. I'm still sitting here as he closes the door, ushering the boys into their nests.

There's no need for him to stay out and protect me; MNU would have to deal with the graketd that fill the centre of the district, protecting me from ground operations and, besides, I'm no damsel in distress. I can fight. Anyway, they won't try anything today. They can _feel_ it; the entire district is fixed on being solely Poleepkwa, they'd probably rip any humans limb from limb.

XxCxWxX

The sun comes up, and I'm _still_ sitting here, waiting. _I'm still waiting for you, Skirilla. You promised you'd come back, that you'd save us. Where are you!_ I feel terrible; I've been building up my leadership, my _strength_ for three years, **three fooking years, man**, and now he's not here and it's all come toppling down again, because _he didn't come back._

**That fooking prawn let me down. Why am I surprised?** _Because he is Skirilla, and because he promised! _I hunch my self in the seat, wrapping my arms around my knees and, for the first time since dawn, close my eyes and lower my head. _I have to stop waiting, stop watching __**and act myself. I have to accept that he might never come back, and I have to move on. **_**I already moved on! From my angel, from being human, from my entire life! **_**And now I have to do it again, I have to be strong; for my people, for myself. **_

Jack's hand reappears on my shoulder and I lean toward him. I let him wrap his arms around me, pulling me to his chest, the spikes on my back catching in the crevices of his chest plates, scratching at the Markings that designate him as a _lokrst_ of the graketd.

"You gonna come inside soon?" The hope in his tone is enough; as strong as the Poleepkwa are, they can't survive without a Jikrenkld. They need me and I can't sit aroundmoping. Something is happening to my people, I can tell. Every generation seems to get smarter, sharper, more hardened to dealing with everything MNU can throw at us. Evolved, adapted to the environment they're held prisoners in. I watch peclastr getting up, some glancing at the sky, some resolutely ignoring it as the go about their business. I untangle Jack, my eyes meeting his and I know he can see, see that I've finally let go, but I haven't given up. That I'm gonna be better, more prepared. That if anything ever happens, we'll be ready, _I'll_ be ready. _**I'm going to be strong; for my people, for myself. I'm going to be their Jikrenkld. **_"What's for breakfast?"

_TBC _

_Love Phe xxxxx_


	10. Chapter 10 : Not Looking

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes porn (now with plot) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**Warnings:**** Body horror, violence, sexual content and language**

**A.N.: ****I'm **_**so sorry**_** for the delay. Check the blog; it has excus-er **_**reasons**_**! Anyway: time skip time! It's been coming for a while, but I thought I needed to set some stuff up first. So, are you ready to grow up, my rockin' reviewers?**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leaders. Teklad: Medics. Graketd: Royal guards. Lexcrant: Messengers. Krelaktyden: Military Peclastr: Worker drones. Jikrenkld: Primary Leader. Hekrandrt: Vice President Figure. Yetrkl: Family. Riklasnt: Parent/s, creators. Claxrictrrrr: Offspring. Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying. Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage. Also means partner. Gajltri: Word that designates an action. Begins with F in English. Harlslnt:****The "Home-vessel" or "Home-transport". Lokrst: Respected position, such as "Captain".**

**Trikfilcrn: group of Poleepkwa, varying in size depending on caste, lead by a Lokrst. **

**Yektradnl: Poleepkwa who have yet to come to their senses; they fight and argue and generally aren't very smart. **

**Treklasgrn: Poleepkwa who are evolved enough (and old enough) to work to help their people. **

**Iflakrt: Poleepkwa insult, kinda like "bitch".**

**Chapter Ten: Not Looking For Where We Belong(We Are Young-Mika) **

I hear the door swing open, wincing and looking up when it bangs shut. The Poleepkwa that had opened the door was a Lokrst of the Lexcrant called Trevor, looking small and sheepish. Harvey trilled in annoyance, but kept his attention on the Poleepkwa on his Marking table, delicately trailing tentacles dipped in paint over it, inking out increasingly intricate swirling vines over the yellow spikes and plates. I make a questioning noise in Trevor's direction as I recoat my own tentacles in black liquid and go back to the pale back of the Poleepkwa spread out on my own table.

"Sir, MNU have arrived through entrance 4 and are heading toward the center of the district. They are currently heading through sector 4/2*****. They want us all there." I echo Harvey's earlier annoyed trill, still not pulling my tentacles back from the Marks on the new Lexcrant. "They can go fook themselves then, can't they?" Harvey and the new recruits snort-chitter, expressing their amusement, whilst Trevor just looks uncomfortable. _**Pfft. New Lokrst; they all come 'round in the end.**_

"Tell Lokrst Rogers to ready his _trikfilcrn_ for whatever those fookers are trying to pull. Get together as many _yektradnl_ as you can, and scatter some treklasgrn amongst, without minors, please; they do silly things." The yellowish recruit winced slightly and the pale recruit snort-chittered again. "Man, _shut uuup!"_ The yellow Poleepkwa groaned, burying his face in his arms.

I shake my head, hiding the mirth in my eyes as I tilt my head to look at the newly Marked Poleepkwa. "You're done. Trevor, you got room for a little one in your trikfilcrn?" Trevor nodded; he was hardly gonna say no, Zeke was one of the fastest Poleepkwa in the District.

XxCxWxX

Trevor departed, taking Zeke with him, leaving Zack to look uncomfortably around and fidget on the table. I sneak a look at his Marks under Harvey's arm and I can feel my eyes filling with pride. Somehow Harvey managed to be one of the biggest treklasgrn and posses a sense of creativity and artistic style that baffled the more scientific-minded teklad. He clicks slightly, just to let me know that he knows I'm watching him.

I roll my eyes and move over to the small bowl of clear liquid and a bin in the corner of the shack, removing the little scraps from the ends of my tentacles and dipping my digits in the bowl, scratching at the drying paint with a nail brush, getting of all but the ever-present stain built up over seven-and-a-bit years of Marking the treklasgrn. _**Well, time to go meet the humans.**_

XxCxWxX

I don't have to push through the crowds like my graketd; the Poleepkwa simply seem to know what's happening and make enough space for me to wriggle past, which, proportionally, isn't much at all. Harvey is some way away, clicking right up close to Goliath's head, like he's trying to whisper, which is a laugh given the amount of loud, angry, clueless conversations that are being had all around us.

I can see pale little streaks darting in between the crowd, going from one Poleepkwa to another, conveying instructions _**probably from Al or Hector **_to the Lokrst in the crowd, who are then spreading to their trikfilcrn. MNU walk _**walk? What are they up to? **_in to the little circle in the center of the crowd and onto the podium there, their exit filling rapidly with the growing crowd.

You can see the tension in the stance of the soldiers but, as they're told, a smile is cheaper than a bullet _**wonder how much we've cost them over the years?**_ and raising their guns would be considered an out and out threat, so they try and act impassive.

A spokeswoman, short even by human standards, steps forward and starts to speak. "I am a speaker from IOPET, and I would like to inform you, with the permission of the MNU," Cue angry click-growls and smug looks from the soldiers of the opposing sides. The spokeswoman stumbled over her pre-determined, MNU-approved speech.

"T-to inform you that a series of vessels have arrived in the vicinity of our planet-" The volume of the clacking and chittering rose higher as most of the Poleepkwa went crazy _**Vessels! Skirilla came back, he came back! And he brought friends! **_I could see blurs passing from the crowd out into the surrounding houses, probably to spread the word further _**which maybe isn't a good idea… **_

I passed lightly back through the crowd, half-dragging Zack with me, catching Harvey's eye and getting him to follow. My graketd have lessened in number by the time we've reached the outer reaches of the crowd. I can hear the spokeswoman trying to shout over the noise, the look of something, maybe panic, in her face as the soldiers level their guns on the Poleepkwa closest to the platform, her gaze flashing between the guns and the celebrating crowd.

Even as she panics, I can see the treklasgrn backing away, some dragging yektradnl as they try to leave without drawing attention to themselves. I pull Zack further out of the crowd as the first MNU soldier starts to shout and aim his gun towards the crowd.

I snort quietly when he's blown all over the podium spattering his comrades with giblets, whilst the crowd goes a _tiny-bit_ blood-crazy. _**You're not the only one with a gun, iflakrt. **_Some of the soldiers level their guns on the crowd, whilst the others try to figure out where the shot was fired from.

_**Oh, well; I guess if someone has to fire the first shot in every war. **_

*: The stared items will be explained on the blog.


	11. Chapter 11 : Get Offa My Back

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I am a depraved psycho who writes plot (which started out as porn, mind you) staring hermaphrodite aliens.**

**A.N.: ****Sorry for the wait my rockin' reviewers! **

**Warnings:**** Body horror, violence, sexual content and language**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leaders. Teklad: Medics. Graketd: Royal guards. Lexcrant: Messengers. Krelaktyden: Military Peclastr: Worker drones. Jikrenkld: Primary Leader. Hekrandrt: Vice President Figure. Yetrkl: Family. Riklasnt: Parent/s, creators. Claxrictrrrr: Offspring. Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying. Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage. Also means partner. Gajltri: Word that designates an action. Begins with F in English. Harlslnt:**__**The "Home-vessel" or "Home-transport". Lokrst: Respected position, such as "Captain". Trikfilcrn: group of Poleepkwa, varying in size depending on caste, lead by a Lokrst. Yektradnl: Poleepkwa who aren't rational. Treklasgrn: Poleepkwa who are rational. Iflakrt: Like "bitch".**

**Chapter 11: Give It Your Best Shot (Get Offa My Back-Bryan Adams)**

It's seems like the whole district's been mobilized, set in a kind of controlled panic mixed with underlying anticipation for the blood about to be spilt in the war that was just started by a single shot. It was coming for a while and yeah, we're prepared, but I'm betting MNU are as well. If I said both sides weren't gonna enjoy the conflict, I'd probably be lying.

The Plan's been hidden, passed around, modified, re-modified, complicated and simplified for seven years, and everyone knows what they're supposed to do, or at least, I hope they do. When we finally get to the house it looks more like a war-room than a living space; schematics and maps with little colored arrows nailed hastily into the walls, a different lokrst rushing in what seems to be every five seconds, talking to Al, the center of all the chaos, and bustling out again.

I leave Zack at the door and make my way to the only wall not covered in paper. It's covered in screens instead; most showing news channels telling the good humans of Jo'burg to evacuate 'calmly and quickly'. I settle into a swivel chair and click my way into the computer system at the IOPET HQ, using the only available screen, left free for just that.

**Dawson has signed in.**

**Mhlanga has signed in**

**Mhlanga:** Dawson, that you?

**Dawson:** Yes

**Mhlanga: **What happened to Tina?

**Dawson:** We got Ms. Worthington out before it got too bad. She's on her way back to you.

I watched IOPET's failing attempts at gleaning a response out of our rescuers aboard the Harlslnt.

**Dawson: **You should let us try.

**Mhlanga: **You don't have a satellite**.**

**Dawson: **Then lend us yours.

I waited impatiently as I watched the screen, almost seeing the deliberating face on the other end of the connection.

**Mhlanga: **We're gonna regret this, aren't we?

**Dawson:** Thank you.

**Mhlanga:** You better know what you're doing, Dawson.

I didn't really. I'm terrible with computers and my people skills, although they've improved since my change, are less than brilliant.

**Mhlanga:** Your silence fills me with confidence.

The only response he got was a ':E', a little emoticon coined on forums, blogs, online conversations and discussions about, on and with Poleepkwa. I was too busy using the probably-completely-illegal IOPET satellite to send information, in English and Poleepkwa, images, videos, coordinates, anything and everything we had that might help, up to the Harlslnt, and praying they were listening.

XxCxWxX

I wave off my Graketd and watch them rush off to their predestined tasks; collecting weapons and standing alongside the Krelaktyden against MNU. Harvey is lent against the outer wall of the squat little structure. "You gonna be okay, Hekrandrt?" I can see the concern in his stance and hear it in his tone. All I can do is nod; this is gonna be tough on all of us.

I make my way over to my waiting trikfilcrn. There were only twelve of us in total, but we'd be meeting up with Trevor's trikfilcrn on the way to the entrance four, the direct route from Jo'burg, whilst other Lexcrant, Graketd and Krelaktyden trikfilcrns will head out to the other entrances.

Most of my trikfilcrn rub at the riklasnt and rekhalat markings on their exoskeletons, obviously hoping that their yetrkl are safe. Mine are with the rest of the people, doing their jobs. I watch George and Cedric lean their heads together, George's left hand on Cedric's shoulder, eyes closed, antennae intertwined.

Amongst the Graketd and Krelaktyden grouped around us, there are other riklasnt hoping this won't be the last time they'll get to touch, rekhalat hoping they'll see their claxrictrrrr again. I send out a silent plea that my yetrkl and I will meet again on the Harlslnt.

Ms. Worthington had explained that the "fleet" was made up of on large vessel surrounded by several smaller ones, most likely drop ships. After telling us everything she knew she'd been dropped outside entrance four with strict instructions to stay out of the fight and a story that the MNU will believe: about black bags and alien savagery.

XxCxWxX

After how loud the district always was, the silence was extremely eerie. How it had managed to get so quiet with all the things the people were doing was anybody's guess. In the distance we could hear MNU's trucks getting closer and by now everyone's jitters where either hidden or outranked by their bloodlust.

The entire district had been spoiling for a fight for years and any treklasgrn with even slight military sense had been handed a weapon and put in a trikfilcrn; some waiting at the entrances, some guarding the people, some making sure the pick-up spots were clear and making sure that everything went smoothly.

When the gates opened we all got ready. The Krelaktyden weren't supposed to open fire on MNU until me, Trevor and our trikfilcrns had done our job. _**If you can't take the weapon alone take the arm as well. **_As I watched the parade of MNU soldiers with their human weapons walking alongside armored trucks and tanks, I let a slow breath out through my gills. _**We **__**can**__** do this. **_

XxCxWxX

They should have been ready, but we had higher knowledge of the area, better reflexes and the element of surprise on our side. We only had one shot at what the youngsters had come to call ''the gun-run'' when we talked about The Plan. And we aced it.

MNU didn't know what had hit them. We flew through them so fast that we were pale streaky after-images across their eyeballs. Okay, so there were a few more arms taken in the enthusiasm, but they would help feed the people, seen as we needed to store as much food as possible up for whatever amount of time this war was gonna last.

_All in all, not bad for a days work. _

_**TBC**_

_**Love Phe xxxxx**_


	12. Chapter 12 : Louder Than God's Revolver

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I've checked.**

**A.N.: **_**My bro : Why are you sobbing in a corner?**_

_**Me: Because my readers aren't reviewing my story!**_

_**My bro: Strange girl. (Walks off)**_

_**Me: Everyone HATES me! (sob)**_

**Warnings:**** violence, body horror, violence, gore, sexual content, violence, language and violence.**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leaders. Teklad: Medics. Graketd: Royal guards. Lexcrant: Messengers. Krelaktyden: Military Peclastr: Worker drones. Jikrenkld: Primary Leader. Hekrandrt: Vice President Figure. Yetrkl: Family. Riklasnt: Parent/s, creators. Claxrictrrrr: Offspring. Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying. Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage. Also means partner. Gajltri: Word that designates an action. Begins with F in English. Harlslnt:**__**The "Home-vessel" or "Home-transport". Lokrst: Respected position, such as "Captain". Trikfilcrn: group of Poleepkwa, varying in size depending on caste, lead by a Lokrst. Yektradnl: Poleepkwa who aren't rational. Treklasgrn: Poleepkwa who are rational. Iflakrt: Like "bitch". ****Porlaksrand****: the mini-mechas. Literally means "giant person".**** Rokhalmas****: siblings of the same age or hatch-mates. ****Rokhelnas****: younger siblings. ****Rekhalns****: older siblings. ****Uruklafrs****: pretty bad insult. ****Sreklas:**** something small and annoying, considered lesser and problematic, like "bug".**

**Chapter Twelve: Louder Than God's Revolver And Twice As Shiny (Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys – My Chemical Romance)**

Loud. It's loud now. Humans screaming and cursing and cheering and shouting insults. Poleepkwa chittering in pain and triumph and loss and happiness. The overbearing sound of human guns; the painted-white rifles and the anti-material rifles, which they used to target the _porlaksrand_, sounding out fierce, terrible noises that had once struck fear into all of my people. The unearthly sounds of our guns and our combatants, sounds that frightened the humans straight down to their black cores.

The Poleepkwa are climbing over the fallen bodies of either side, slitting human throats with knives improvised from scrap metal and broken rocks and human bones, bashing their heads in with pipes and crowbars, kicking out at their bodies and dismembering them with inhuman strength and a distinct lack of mercy.

The humans are wading through pools of crimson blood, soaked in the remnants of their brothers-at-arms, firing their puny, slightly embarrassing guns at the hordes of Poleepkwa swarming around them, mowing down one or two, only for ten more to take their place. The humans that were inside the district were desperately outnumbered, fighting back to back or in tight circles, stinking of fear and pain.

The Poleepkwa had become a single-minded entity which was entirely fixated on butchering, massacring, annihilating every last piece of MNU scum that had oppressed and tormented us for far too long.

All over the district it could be heard; the primal, feral, growling chitters. Sometimes you could catch a certain name of a lost companion or relative, sometimes a lone insult or a long string of cursing and swearing, but mostly it was just a huge sound, louder than the guns of either side, the death-chitters of fallen Poleepkwa and the terrified screaming of the dying humans.

It was the sound of our long awaited vengeance; vengeance for our claxrictrrrr, our rekhalat, our riklasnt, our rokhalmas, our rokhelnas, our rekhalns, our people, the ones that had fallen beneath the weight of our undignified captivity and broken beneath the feet of the humans that had imprisoned us.

It was a message to the world, a message they had been expecting for many years, a message we had spent many years practicing for and perfecting until it had becoming astoundingly brutal; that we would no longer remain quiet in our oppression, that we would no longer stand back and let them kill and kill, that they weren't the only ones that could be barbaric and inhumane and that we could, actually, be barbaric and inhumane a whole lot better than they could.

And they _were_ going to listen. And they _were_ going to be afraid of us. Because now it was our turn. We would hold the district until the Harlslnt came to return us to our home and we would kill as many humans as we had to. And maybe more. We reveled in our chance to exact revenge upon the uruklafrs that had thought themselves better than us. _**Well, nows our chance to show them that they're wrong…**_

I've not felt like this in years. I'm terrified; terrified that every move will be my last, that a stray bullet will zip between the squirming masses of human and Poleepkwa and gun me down like so many others, terrified that one of the humans will somehow realize my importance and drag me away from the fight and to some MNU lab, to hurt me, question me, imprison me, kill me.

Then again, I love being here, in the exhilarating, inglorious, undignified slaughter, amongst the writhing, bloodied, awe-inspiring combatants. Everyone from the lexcrant to the peclastr are amongst the Poleepkwa.

The lexcrant dart into the gaps between bodies, quick and agile, making corpses and severing limbs with every other slash of their gore-stained blades.

The teklad wield pipes, stones, knives and guns, but it doesn't matter what weapon the use, they always strike with a medical, but none the less deadly, precision true to their purpose.

The peclastr prefer to fight with the weapons nature provided them with, ripping bodies apart limb from limb, bashing in skulls with fists, tearing the soft flesh of throats and faces away from bone with powerful mandibles.

The krelaktyden move through the warring crowd with an obvious authority. Fighting is, after all, their specialty, their purpose, and their experiences and natural talent shows in their movement, each handling his weapon of choice with a deadly skill that splatter the gore and entrails of their targets over any vaguely close to them.

The graketd are more subtle, swifter and smaller, but no less murderous than the krelaktyden as they, like the peclastr, fight with few external aids, crushing bone and breaking skin with every perfectly precise, incredibly brutal attack.

I catch sight of al these techniques in the brief pause between the death of one opponent and the challenge of the next. My style lies somewhere between the graketd and the lexcrant; moving fast slitting throats and bellies, but also using my body to crack, bones, skulls and spines, the bodily fluids and intestines slipping out of the cuts and joining the puddles of identical remains that had been and were being spilt in every, corner, alley, street and square across the district, turning the dust and dirt into dark stinking mud that sucked at MNU boots and Poleepkwa talons alike.

I'm briefly distracted from choosing my next victim by the simultaneously nauseating and amusing image of Goliath wielding a skull by the still attached spine as a weapon, the blood and grey matter of it's previous owner mingling with the gore that it spilt from the surrounding humans, most of which had been killed whilst in the act of turning tail and running or staring incredulously at the insanely effective improvised weapon and the enormous being that was using it rather ingeniously.

I shake my head slightly in exasperation and turn on an MNU soldier in the process of backing away from the awful sight of Goliath and his ghoulish enjoyment of his own little mini-massacre. I tap him on the shoulder, solely to have the ability to look gloatingly into his eyes as I shove my knife into his stomach.

_**That's right, sreklas, you and your puny little race should be **__**very**__** afraid of us.**_ I rammed the knife in further, bathing most of my arm in his sticky, crimson entrails, before pulling it out and slashing across, spilling his guts into the mud, all the while with my gaze fixed on his dying eyes.

_**TBC…**_

_**I WANT reviews! Love, Phe xxxxx**_ __


	13. Chapter 13 : Not Enough Time

**Disclaimer: **** I am not the owner of District 9. I've checked.**

**A.N.: ****My blog needs love, too!**

**Warnings:**** violence, body horror, violence, gore, sexual content, violence, language and violence.**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leaders. Teklad: Medics. Graketd: Royal guards. Lexcrant: Messengers. Krelaktyden: Military Peclastr: Worker drones. Jikrenkld: Primary Leader. Hekrandrt: Vice President Figure. Yetrkl: Family. Riklasnt: Parent/s, creators. Claxrictrrrr: Offspring. Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying. Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage. Also means partner. Gajltri: Word that designates an action. Begins with F in English. Harlslnt:**__**The "Home-vessel" or "Home-transport". Lokrst: Respected position, such as "Captain". Trikfilcrn: group of Poleepkwa, varying in size depending on caste, lead by a Lokrst. Yektradnl: Poleepkwa who aren't rational. Treklasgrn: Poleepkwa who are rational. Iflakrt: Like "bitch". Porlaksrand: the mini-mechas. Literally means "giant person".****Rokhalmas: siblings of the same age or hatch-mates. Rokhelnas: younger siblings. Rekhalns: older siblings. Uruklafrs: pretty bad insult. Sreklas: something small and annoying, considered lesser and problematic, like "bug". **

**Uslekis:**** again insult (in plural. Singular is usleki). ****Harlnas:**** the smaller vessels (means "small vessel"). ****Hntlarst****: the name of the jungle/forest that surrounds the hive****. Xls:**** Se-ér-le-és (´= accent on this syllable).**

**Chapter Thirteen: Not Enough Time To Live Forever (Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys – My Chemical Romance)**

It had stopped now. For the most part the district was quiet. The sound of human screams had faded, resurfacing every now and again when a survivor was found amongst the wreckage of his colleagues. I held my head in my tentacles, my antennae trying to shy away from any form of noise.

I'd already done my share of hunting for survivors, and now I was slumped in a relatively clean spot, ''relatively clean'' meaning that I wasn't sat in ten inches of gore. I don't know how I managed that; the entire district is littered with the carcasses of the slaughtered MNU soldiers. Here and there I maybe see a face I recognize, but I don't really care.

I don't care because of the feeling that's spreading inside my abdomen, an empty kind of feeling that niggles away at your concentration so even if you managed to care about anything long enough to think about it you couldn't think about for very long.

My body shifts and twitches, little jitters that I can't quite control. I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around them, trying to pull my body in on itself, to hide it away from the exhausted Poleepkwa slumping against the wall near me, from the Krelaktyden milling between the bodies.

I prop my head on my knees and search the battlefield for any sign of one of my friends. I gotta get outta here before the Poleepkwa around me notice what's happening _though I wouldn't really mind if they did… __**Oh, God, here we go again! Breathe, breathe; it's gonna be fine. **_At that moment I spot Hector stomping around the corner.

Trilling, I wave my tentacle in the air. As he gets closer I haul myself up from the floor, trying to ignore the gazes that are starting to follow me. Puffing a slow, determined breath out of my gills, I give an imploring look that he understands immediately. He grabs me by the shoulders and steers me off, shooting try-it-and-you'll-lose-a-limb looks at the crowd that's growing around us.

I'm leaning rather heavily on him by the time we get to my home. I stopped babbling halfway back; Hector isn't one for conversation; at least not with me. I've always had trouble understanding what he's saying. Jack said it's because he doesn't have the same accent as the others, that he was from a different hive.

I usually don't talk to him but my plans to distract myself from what my body's doing tend to involve chattering on about the first thought that stumbles through the lust haze I sometimes call my mind.

After the fourth or fifth time I say "Ya know, you're really big. Like really, _really _big." Hector rolls his eyes (_**one of the more human gestures my people have picked up**_) and looks like he's about to say something, but before he can get a click out I manage to trip over thin air.

Hector catches me mid-fall and before I can say anything he hoists me up into his arms and it's my turn to roll my eyes. The Poleepkwa have some weird obsession with carrying me around. Bridal style. Yeah… _Not that I mind… _**Yes I do!** _**Can anyone say "schizophrenic"? **_Instead of going over this internal debate _again_ I look out at what's left of the district, trying hard not to notice the bodies of Poleepkwa scattered about, waiting to be discovered by their yetrkl.

The stench of burning petrol fills up my head, preying on my heightened senses, and I can't help but stare at a burning shack, for some reason very freaked out by the orange flames I used to find so calming … before. They look odd now, unsettlingly close to what they should and yet completely _wrong_.

I huddle closer to Hector, the closeness both appeasing and aggravating the constant needwant_need _inside me, as I try to get away from the flickering orange glow. Hector makes a smug trilling noise. "What do you think it should look like?" His clicks are slow, deliberate. _**I'm not a child. I can speak.**_

"I dunno. I have dreams about green fire…" Hector trills again. "What else do you dream of?" The clicks are faster now, as if speaking slowly has already slipped his mind. I keep talking; it's a great distraction from the feeling of being close to Hector.

"Structures built at the foot of a cliff, in this humid, hot-looking place, in a clearing in some kind of jungle, like domes but more … egg-shaped, small looking compared to everything else but they must be big enough to house entire yetrkl in just one, and there's loads, built on top of each other and into the cliff, with some kind of rope ladder and footholds cut into the walls or something linking the ones on the ground to the ones higher up, and you get the feeling that they head back into the cliff as well. Sometimes it's night and the place's lit up all green and it looks so … _homely_. I know it's stupid but …"

"It's not stupid." Hector cuts in. I quirk my head, and succeed in bashing my temple against his shoulder. He looks down at me rubbing my head, then to the path he's picking around, or through, the piles of gore. "We all dream about home. We miss it. The hive most of your people are from is the one your sleep speaks to you of.

Their home is one of the more … laid-back hives on our planet. They like to dwell amongst nature, in their cliff-cities. They are smart and hard workers, so when times are hard in the forests they take on work on ships like the one that brought us here; mining ships. The hive I come from is differs greatly from yours. It, and several like it, are the ones that drive the mining industry to move further afield."

"Why was Skirilla on a mining ship?" I ask, the first thing that flies through my head tumbling out my mouth as usual. I'm leaning outside taking deep breaths. Now that Hector's buggered off inside

"To see the work his people did, to help with the systems. Although your hive is laid-back, they have helped with several breakthroughs in our technology; your Skirilla participating in the latest advances more than the ones before him. He was monitoring the behavior of the Harlslnt. All the time we spent floating above, he was trying to repair the system, but… something went wrong, I don't know what.

For him to be on the Harlslnt, for it to fail close enough to Earth that here is where our emergency protocols brought us is coincidence, As humans say; the wrong place at the wrong time."

Whilst I'm thinking about this, still rubbing my head, he picks his way through the last stretch of blood-soaked battlefield to my home. He shifts me in his arms, and (_reluctantly_** finally**) I let myself be put back on my own two talons. Hector reaches out his tentacles to knock (_**another human gesture**_), I snort and just push the door open.

Most of the Poleepkwa crowed into my hut are Lokrst, propped awkwardly against the walls, apart from Zack in the center, happily recounting some story to Zeke, who looks a little distracted, fascinated and disgusted by the fact that left-over human still coats his Rokhalmas (and most of the others).

I beckon Hector inside and he makes himself comfortable leaning against a free patch of wall, crossing his arms over his chest (_**again with the human gestures**_). I give Jack a little wave, and he scoots out from his place sat against the wall between Al and Harvey and makes his way to the door.

By the time he's outside I'm lent against the wall. Now that Hector's buggered off inside, I'm back to taking deep, steadying breaths, my gills puffing in and out with each slow inhale and exhale. "I think I need a place to lie down, wait it out, it should pass it, i-it shouldn't even be here for a coupla weeks…"

It's coming out of my mouth-parts in a jumble of chitters that a human would perceive as a wordless wire (and that most Poleepkwa would have trouble deciphering). Jack's used to this by now, leaning against the wall, just close enough to make me feel a little better (_**and a little needier**_). "It's the fighting, the collective excitement, all the blood. Quite a few of us are going a little hay-wire."

And now he's a little too close; smelling of want that is a perfect opposite to mine, the dominant to my submissive. _Good, good, _**bad, bad, **_**bad! Stop it! There isn't time! It'll be awkward! You live together! **_"Ba-Back up a bit there, will ya?" Jack looks a kinda rejected, but backs up all the same. "Sorry." He mumbles. We both get a bit of a grip on our bodies; trying to stop kicking out piles of pheromones. "Al and Kieran's hut will be free."

_**Perfect.**_ "Thanks, Jack. Will you tell them I'm crashing there?" He nods and slumps back in through the door. I sigh and head into the hut next door. Poor things had been moved to a bigger hut to accommodate their hatchlings … the hatchlings that got burnt to death, the victims of a hate crime. MNU of course swore they would tighten security, that it would never happen again. _**Yeah, right(!) If the uslekis at MNU didn't set the whole thing up I'll eat my antennae. They'll do anything to get in one last petty blow. **_

I curl up in a nest that smells familiarly like the hut I shared with Al and Kieran back at the old District. The minute I'm comfortable my body lets itself realize how tired it actually is, and I drop off faster than you can say 'cat food'.

XxCxWxX

I wake 'cause someone's humming very loudly. Or several someones. Who are on the roof. And some other someones are caterwauling, sounding a lot like car alarms. Or… My eyes fly open and I jump straight out of the nest, get my talons tangled in one of the blankets, start falling, catch myself before I break my face on the floor, un-tangle myself, run at the door, try and open it, pulling instead of pushing, push the door with such force I fall out after it, cursing all the way, steady myself and stare up at the sky.

Sure enough I'm greeted by the almost nostalgic sight of the Harlslnt's complicated metal under-belly and the new (and rather reassuring) sight of a fleet of smaller vessels flying close to it. "Wikus!" It's Zeke, calling to me over the noise and pointing to the door to our house. Once I get inside, I'm confronted by the image of a huge _beautiful _face staring out at the room from every single one of the screens on the wall.

The face's dark green plating is supported by a bone structure that looks vaguely like a Krelaktyden's; hard and authoritative, ready to take on any enemy head on. His eyes are large, expressive and kinda scary, telling me that whatever he says I'll reply the way he wants me to. His entire face screams 'authority' the way the pleasant green fires and the city in the cliff screams 'home'. I just know.

"Oh, good, there you are. He's been asking for you." Al grabs me by the shoulders and steers me to the swivel chair in front of the bank of monitors. The face looks out at me quizzically (sans head-tilt) and then I realize the web-cam must be on. This guy can _see_ me. _**Ho-leeeee shit.**_

I can feel my entire body freeze before I start to fight against it; sit taller in the chair, straightening my back and antennae. He sees my defiance, and I think I see a twitch of humor somewhere in his face. I'm not gonna look weak just 'cause he's decided to glare at me. I'm a lotta things, but I'm not a pussy.

"You've been asking for me?" Trying not to sound like a guy who's been dragged before the boss to get fired, I look him straight in the eyes and try very hard not to blink to much, or to look too scared.

"You are this colony's Jikrenkld?" His tone is … amused. His face is too. "You are but a little scrap of a thing!"

"Size isn't everything." **Dickhead. **

"If you say so." He still sounds like he's trying not to crack up. **Asshole.** "Are you the one I have to thank for all the information?"

"I had plenty of help."

"I see. You appear to be covered in some kind of gunge." Not a question, but he wants an answer.

I just shrug. "Human." The tone of my voice dismisses the question, 'cause it's pretty unimportant. He looks a little astounded, before he slips the façade right back into place, leaving only slight amusement showing. "You killed many?"

I shrug again. "I had plenty of help. Plenty of humans are dead." 'That's all you need to know', my tone implies. "Can you get us out of here?"

"Why, certainly. I have already sent the command to the harlnas to land and begin the evacuation of your people." **Note the 'your'. Dickhead knows who's boss.** I feel a little smug, but trying not to let it show, not wanting him to think I'm getting cocky, I just nod tersely. "Why, little one, our manners! I am Xls, Jikrenkld of the hive of Hntlarst. And you are …?"

"Wikus, Jikrenkld of the Poleepkwa of District 10." Shock pushes to the forefront in his eyes, just before his face disappears before being quickly replaced by another (similar) one. "Wikus!" _**I think I'm gonna pass out. It's him…**_

_**TBC…**_

_**Phe xxxxx**_


	14. Chapter 14 : Closest To Heaven

**Disclaimer: **** If it **_**were**_** up to me, there wouldn't have been a moustache! Or a wife!**

**A.N.:****A free hug with every review!**

**Warnings:**** violence, body horror, violence, gore, sexual content, violence, languageand violence.**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leaders. Teklad: Medics. Graketd: Royal guards. Lexcrant: Messengers. Krelaktyden: Military Peclastr: Worker drones. Jikrenkld: Primary Leader. Hekrandrt: Vice President Figure. Yetrkl: Family. Riklasnt: Parent/s, creators. Claxrictrrrr: Offspring. Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying. Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage. Also means partner. Gajltri: Word that designates an action. Begins with F in : The "Home-vessel" or "Home-transport". Lokrst: Respected position, such as "Captain". Trikfilcrn: group of Poleepkwa, varying in size depending on caste, lead by a Lokrst. Yektradnl: Poleepkwa who aren't rational. Treklasgrn: Poleepkwa who are rational. Iflakrt: Like "bitch". Porlaksrand: the mini-mechas. Literally means "giant person". Rokhalmas: siblings of the same age or hatch-mates. Rokhelnas: younger siblings. Rekhalns: older siblings. Uruklafrs: pretty bad insult. Sreklas: something small and annoying, considered lesser and problematic, like "bug". Uslekis: again insult (in plural. Singular is usleki). Harlnas: the smaller vessels (means "small vessel"). Hntlarst: the name of the jungle/forest that surrounds the hive. Xls: Se-ér-le-és (´= accent on this syllable).**

**Chapter Fourteen: Closest To Heaven (Iris- Goo Goo Dolls)**

_**Okay, don't panic… **_**Panic? Who's panicking? **_Not us, we're not panic, nonono... _**I mean, why panic, it's just **_Skirilla, oh f__**ook, we're in trouble now…**_

I shift in the seat, trying to not look so … emotional, but _**fookme**_he's back and I really can't help it. My tentacles are gripping the edge of the desk which houses several different computer mice and key boards, staring at the screen, the face that had haunted me for years, that had complicated my personal life and started this whole crazy thing that turned my world on its head._**He's still so beautiful… **_

"Yes. It's … er … it's _good_ to see you, Christopher. You're a little late." Several of the Lokrst that had snuck up behind me to see the face of their salvation snort-chittered in amusement. Christopher's mouth-parts fluttered in wordless amazement. He was making the 'clickitty-clickitty-whiiiiiiiiiiiiir" sound that was Poleepkwa for "Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr". It's kinda amusing.

"B-b-but you, you hate…" He was gesturing wildly between me and my people. "I got over myself." I explain gently. His confused expression gets even worse _**he's cute like that**_ I just shake my head at him. "I'm coming with you, ya know. On the Harlslnt."

"You are?" The look in his eyes goes from confusion to joy and back to confusion in an instant. I just nod. I can practically hear Jack bouncing up and down with hyper-active happiness. In the end, Christopher blinks, nods and then turns his head to the left, the way he pushed Xls in his rush to see me.

Xls moves back into the screen with an exasperated look in Skirilla's direction. "Yes, well, I must apologize for the behavior of my rokhelnas, Wikus." _**That would explain the similarities, but Skirilla's a lot … nicer-looking. His face is more open. Friendlier.**_ "We will be sending down the smaller vessels to ferry up your people."

I nod. "There're a few things I gotta clear up before I leave. I'll send out the orders. The ships'll be in the places we suggested?"

"Indeed. Your strategies are actually rather well-thought-out." _**As opposed to what? Run at the humans with sticks and hope we kill a couple? We've been planning for years, we're hardly gonna leave anything to chance. **_**Dickhead.**I nod again. **I'm starting to feel like one of those nodding dogs…**

"Right, ya heard the man get to yer sectors and clear 'em!" Lefu yells at the Lokrst in my living space. They all bugger off straight away, until it was just me, Jack and the kids. Jack, Zack and Zeke were all doing last-minute checks on their packs, making sure they had everything important. Even though Zack protested that he wasn't a kid anymore, I saw him double-checking that he'd packed the little model car that I'd made him. _**Feels like a lifetime ago, now.**_

I can feel the contented clicks bubbling up inside my chest. _**We're going home!**_

XxCxWxX

**Dawson: **We're going home!

**Mhlanga: **I noticed the smaller vessels coming and going.

**Dawson: **Buzkill.

**Mhlanga: **Why are you still on Earth?

**Dawson: **I just wanted to say so long. And thanks for all the cow's heads.

**Mhlanga:** You're welcome (?)

**Dawson: **Goodbye, old friend.

**Mhlanga: **Been interesting working with you, Dawson. Thanks for the help.

**Dawson: **Say goodbye to those bastards at MNU for us, will you?

**Mhlanga: **The ones that survived…

**Dawson: **:E

**Dawson has signed off**

Fundiswa stared at the screen for a few seconds, before clicking out of the chat room and switching off his laptop. He walked out of the flat onto the tiny balcony beyond and, amid the dying remains of plants he always got given and could never keep alive, he watched the last of the rescue ships ferry the last of the Poleepkwa onto the huge, familiar ship. "_Goodbye, old friend", indeed. _

XxCxWxX

The ship judders as it takes off. I slide my way down the wall onto a low bench, my legs pulled in tight so they don't trip someone up. The ships full of the last stragglers; mostly Lokrst who'd stayed behind to double check we hadn't left anyone behind. I snort-chitter of the idea of getting out of Earth's atmosphere, then coming back for the one poor guy we left behind.

Jack slides onto the bench beside me. "I-I'm sorry about … about…" Clickitty-whiiiiiiiiiiir.

"Oh, no. It's … It's …" Clickitty. _**I'm as bad as them. **__"_It's … fine. Absolutely … _fine._" _**There's gotta be a better word than fine…**_ We just sit here in silence, because being quiet is less embarrassing than what we might say. We made a deal a while ago; when something like this happens, the one that started it apologizes and then we _never talk about it again._

"Sir?" I look up at Dingane, the Lexcrant Lokrst who's barely taller than I am. "We're going home now?" I nod; Lexcrant are, by nature, slightly childish: eager, over-excitable, short-tempered and in a little world of their own. _**Sometimes they're a breath of fresh air, compared to the stiffs I hang 'round with.**_ I nod at Dingane. He bops about on the spot, then catches sight of Wayland leaning up against the wall, looking at him quizzically, and chitters slightly in embarrassment.

I shake my head slightly and roll my eyes_**. I always feel like the mom 'round my people, especially the Lexcrant and the younger Treklasgrn**_. _**I don't really mind being the mom, I guess; it's nice to have a big family. Kind sucks being a single parent, though… **_I lean my head on Jack's shoulder, avoiding th worst of the spikes, trying to get some comfort from the closeness.

The ship judders again and the doors open. I shoo the Lokrst out first, scoring Dingane a spot next to Wayland (earning myself a death glare). As I step onto the Harlslnt, I look over my shoulder, out of a window I didn't notice before. _**Goodbye, old friend. Goodbye, angel. **_

XxCxWxX

The kids come flying at me the second my talons hit the deck, the force of it knocking me back against the wall of the docking bay as Zeke's clicks come out a mile a minute about all the different things on the ship. I look over his shoulder; at Zack and Jack looking on fondly; at Al and Kieran holding each other tightly; at Hector conversing with one of the Poleepkwa, the odd clicking suggesting that they hail from the same place; at Dingane leaning closer to Wayland as he gestures at the structure of the docking bay…

At the Poleepkwa that the crowd is parting for, the one that's heading in my direction… Zeke pulls away as he gets close, sidling off to stand close to Zack. I awkwardly stick out my tentacles to Skirilla _**never mind shaking his hand! JUMP ON HIM! **_who completely ignores it, wraps his arms 'round me _**that's **__**nice**__**, isn't it?**_ and drags me closer, half lifting me off my feet.

I look up into his eyes and whir in confusion. Skirilla shakes his head a little and then bends down, catching my mouth-parts in his _**he's such a good kisser**_ right there, in front of everyone _**screw politeness, give them a show if they won't clear out! And this is really **__**nice, **__**awesome, fantastic, brilliant… Perfect! **_When he pulls away air's rushing in and out of my gills a little too fast and I'm reining my body back in before something that I'll look back on and cringe.

"H-Hi…" Is all I can manage after that, my brain still catching up with my body.

"It's good to see you." He responds. _**How come you're so calm? Screw me six ways through Sunday already!**_

"Yeah. You too, Skirilla." I nod energetically as he lowers me back down to the ground. I can feel it bubbling up inside, a kind of euphoric amusement _**maybe I'm gonna go hysterical? **_As I wrap my arms tighter 'round his shoulders, instead of just crossing my wrists behind his head, pulling him down to more a level I can reach and, not giving a fuck who's watching, I re-tangle our mouth-parts. _**I could get use to this.**_

_**TBC**_

_**Phe xxxxx**_


	15. Chapter 15 : Defcon 1

**Disclaimer: **** If it **_**were**_** up to me, there wouldn't have been a moustache! Or a wife! (Not that I don't like Tanya…) **

**A.N.:**** Hugs to Miyavi Honey,** **leyu02o.O wait leviathan02 too, AbiGael DiNozzo and everyone who alerted, favorited or reviewed!**

**Warnings:**** violence, body horror, violence, gore, sexual content, violence, languageand violence.**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leaders. Teklad: Medics. Graketd: Royal guards. Lexcrant: Messengers. Krelaktyden: Military. Peclastr: Worker drones. Jikrenkld: Primary Leader. Hekrandrt: Vice President Figure. Yetrkl: Family. Riklasnt: Parent/s, creators. Claxrictrrrr: Offspring. Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying. Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage. Also means partner. Gajltri: Word that designates an action. Begins with F in English. Harlslnt: The "Home-vessel" or "Home-transport". Lokrst: Respected position, such as "Captain". Trikfilcrn: group of Poleepkwa, varying in size depending on caste, led by a Lokrst. Yektradnl: Poleepkwa who aren't rational. Treklasgrn: Poleepkwa who are rational. Iflakrt: Like "bitch". Porlaksrand: the mini-mechas. Literally means "giant person". Does anyone read these anymore? Rokhalmas: siblings of the same age or hatch-mates. Rokhelnas: younger siblings. Rekhalns: older siblings. Uruklafrs: pretty bad insult. Sreklas: something small and annoying, considered lesser and problematic, like "bug". Uslekis: again insult (in plural. Singular is usleki). Harlnas: the smaller vessels (means "small vessel"). Hntlarst: the name of the jungle/forest that surrounds the hive. Xls: Se-ér-le-és (´= accent on this syllable). Jektly: talk; but not exactly, kinda like "express himself".**

**Chapter Fifteen: Defcon 1 (Scrap Attack-Headhunterz) **

When I realize that I'm shamelessly making out with Skirilla in front of lots of Poleepkwa, I pull back, my heels touching back down on the ground. _**I have to get my act together. We're barely out of the District! There are people I have to talk to! People who lost their yetrkl… **_That thought sobers me up pretty quickly and, as much as I love _need_ the feeling, I shrug my way out of _my_ Skirilla's arms.

Slowly expelling a breath through my gills, I look around the room I'm in, trying to find the right faces in the crowd, but I don't know who to start with; there are so many who died, so many who will never go home. All I can think to do is gather them all and make some kinda speech. I glance at Jack and then at Skirilla, but only briefly; he's looking at me like he's about to tackle me to the ground and take me. "A-are they all here?" I ask no one in particular.

Without waiting to hear the answer, I head to an outcrop in the metal wall and climb on to it. It's probably a bench or a shelf, but right now it's my podium; they're looking at me, waiting, like whatever I say will make everything better. What can I tell them? _**The truth, tell them the truth.**_

I breathe out again, close my eyes, face the crowd. Tell them the truth. "I don't know what to say. I wish I could make everything better… I really, really do. I wish no one had died. I wish _all_ of us could go home together. I wish that a lot of things were different…

but, unfortunately, they're not. Things are as they are. We've adapted before and we will adapt again. I know we will, because we're strong. Some of you might feel weak, or broken, because y.u've all lost so much; that's completely okay. Everyone feels like that when they lose something. But, they died doing what was right and we have them to thank for this. I… I am thankful, to all of you. That's… that's all I have to say."

Getting back down off the outcrop, I don't try to stop them from seeing me as I break down, wrapping my arms around Jack and Zack and Zeke and Skirilla; my yetrkl, the one I managed to save… Not everyone had the power to save all their loved one from the district, or from the humans; Jack's Riklasnt, Kieran and Al's claxrictrrrr, Hank's rekhalat, Kreklasn's rokhalmas, the Poleepkwa I the labs or test centers or camps…

The hecrtkl slips out of me; I'm not even trying to stop it. As I stand close to my yetrkl, one of Skirilla's arms wrapped around my shoulders as one of Zeke's shoulder spikes pokes me uncomfortably in the chest; I mourn everyone we've lost over the years. And thank them all for getting us this far.

XxCxWxX

Xls is even more intimidating in person; I want to run away, I want to hide behind Skirilla, I want _I want him to take me… _I lean closer to Skirilla, focusing on him, but it doesn't help _at all_; being closer to Skirilla just makes me want him as well. _Now wouldn't that be interesting…_ I shiver and grab at Skirilla's tentacles, entangling them with my own. Xls looks quizzical; hand holding must be too human a gesture for him.

Air is flowing in and out of my lungs too fast as Xls stares at me. "You are even smaller than I expect." _**What!**_ "Excuse me!"

"You're very small." He says, like I'm an idiot.

"And what's that to you?" I demand, fire fighting fire in my gut as my rage tries to take over.

"Small yet completely insubordinate…" He turns to Skirilla. "How do you find him appealing after he starts to jektly?"

My mouth-parts flutter at him. I wanna hit him, or yell at him. Or _so he finds me appealing before we jektly? Well, we can be quiet…_ _**No way! We're Skirilla's! **__But!_

"I don't know, but I think what he jektly is the part that made me realize that the rest is just as appealing." Skirilla wraps his arm around my shoulders _and now we're even closer… _He looks down at me when my tentacles squeeze his even tighter, the look in his eyes acknowledging the heaps of pheromones I must be putting out right now.

"Perhaps, rokhelnas, you two would prefer to be alone?" I want to protest, to say that whatever we were going to discuss will be discussed, but then Skirilla shifts me slightly and my back is pressed against his chest and I can't do anything but try to hold back the keens already starting inside me.

"That might be best." Is all he wants to say, apparently, instead busying himself with inspecting the cracks in my chest plates with the tips of his tentacles. Xls simply walks out of the room, leaving me to push myself back against Skirilla as his tentacles trail lower, briefly caressing my binary arms before ghosting 'round the plating that would open to reveal my spike, heading straight for the opening between my legs.

Legs that are about to give out. I lock my arms around his neck as he bends his head forward, tilting me so his mouth-parts can reach the sensitive parts of my neck. I think it couldn't feel any better… and then he latches on to my neck just as his tentacles fully intrude into my opening. The keens are getting louder, as I try and feel more, thrusting my hips in time with his tentacles.

Right now, I'm kinda glad Xls left.

_**And now you hate me XD**_

_**TBC Love Phe xxx**_


	16. Chapter 16 : Flame that Still Burns

**Disclaimer: ****I think I've made it clear. It ain't mine.**

**A.N.: ****I got my graduation certificate this morning, and I figure I've kept you waiting long enough as is. A big thank you to all of you that stuck around x3**

**Warnings:**** body horror, sexual content, languageand violence.**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leaders. Teklad: Medics. Graketd: Royal guards. Lexcrant: Messengers. Krelaktyden: Military. Peclastr: Worker drones. Jikrenkld: Primary Leader. Hekrandrt: Vice President Figure. Yetrkl: Family. Riklasnt: Parent/s, creators. Claxrictrrrr: Offspring. Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying. Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage or partner. Does anyone read these anymore? Gajltri: An action. Begins with F in English. Harlslnt: The "Home-vessel" or "Home-transport". I love Supernatural. Lokrst: Respected position, captain. Trikfilcrn: group of Poleepkwa, varying depending on caste, led by a Lokrst. Yektradnl: Poleepkwa who aren't rational. Cas wants Dean. Bad. Treklasgrn: Poleepkwa who are rational. Iflakrt: "bitch". Porlaksrand: the mini-mechas. Rokhalmas: siblings of the same age or hatch-mates. Rokhelnas: younger siblings. Rekhalns: older siblings. Uruklafrs: pretty bad insult. Gabriel is so mother-fucking sexy. Sreklas: something small and annoying, "bug". Usleki: again insult (in plural. Singular is usleki). Harlnas: the smaller vessels Hntlarst: the jungle/forest that surrounds the hive. Xls: Se-ér-le-és (´= accent on this syllable). Jektly: "express himself".**

**Chapter Sixteen: Flame that Still Burns (I Will Always Return-Bryan Adams)**

As Skirilla's tentacles continue to intrude into my cloacae, his mouth-parts trail lightly down my neck until they reach the part where it meets my shoulder, focusing there for now.

My arms are still locked around his neck, trying to keep me stable, so I reach up and run my tentacles over his antennae. He reacts in a way that's almost unbearable; bucking against me just enough for me to feel the jut of the carapace opening to reveal his spike _oh please yes _before he applies more pressure with his tentacles_ moreyeswantitsobad_, making me keen and basically give up all hope of using my legs.

So maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised when Skirilla slips those tentacles out of me, making me keen for them back, and uses both sets of arms to hoist me up until I'm high enough up to fit my legs over his hips. I hold myself close _so close_ to him as he walks us somewhere, before lowering me onto some kinda flat structure.

I'm half frenzied by now, his binary arms caressing me half-gently, half-crazy himself with need, trying to calm me down, as his spike extends fully _god so close _and I trail my spare tentacle down his head, clutching at the jutting angles of his face and pulling him closer with my legs, egging him on. He's trying to take his time, but I don't want him to, it's been so long and I just _need him so bad._

And then it's happening and _fook_ nothing's ever felt more right than this, than having Skirilla right where I need him, than having him _so damn close_ that I can barely breathe. I'm trying to keep track of everything that's happening but it's too much; Skirilla and his tentacles and his binary arms and his antennae and his spike and his voice, growling things I can't quite catch, and through all this _I just can't think_.

So I end up just letting go. I give myself over to it, moving with my partner, resonating with his growls, loving every second that rushes by so damn fast I don't have time for all the pleasure trying to overload me.

Our pace is getting faster and clumsier, both of us focused on something that's just around the corner, clutching at whatever part of the other we can get a hold of, my arms wrapped helplessly around him as his prop him up over me, our binary arms clasping at each other between our bodies.

When the approaching oblivion reaches us, it washes over us with all the force of a tsunami, knocking me so completely for six I can't even keen out for Skirilla as he lets out one final, drawn out growl. My eyes are trying to focus on Skirilla's face as our binary arms disentangle and he lowers himself down next to me. I reach out blindly for his tentacles and intertwine them with my damaged ones.

As I'm giving in to the aftermath of what just happened, Skirilla starts purring something just loud enough for me to make out: "My Wikus, my Wikus, mine..."

XxCxWxX

Waking up the next morning is interesting. Skirilla is trailing his tentacles along my sides, making the purring noise of a contented Poleepkwa. I squirm gently toward him, tugging slightly on the tentacle still wrapped around mine to let him know I'm awake.

He acknowledges this by pulling me closer to him, my carapace scraping the surface we're laying on and clicking against his. I whir playfully at him, as if to say "What, again?" The only answer I get is the tangle of our mouthparts as Skirilla starts to kiss me, slow and languid, gentler as his spike hardens against my leg.

My awkward feet scrabble at the smooth surface we're laying on as I try to get closer to the kiss whilst my free tentacles grasp at his hip gently, trying to tug his body on top of mine like it was the night before.

Instead, Skirilla growls and pulls me toward him, not breaking the elaborate kiss he's holding me in as he manoeuvres me onto him, laid out in between his splayed legs. I reach out and grasp his spike now, inspecting it properly for the first time. I've seen other Poleepkwa's spikes before, at MNU training, out in the parts of the district the Yektradnl frequented or even a coupla timesin Al's old shack(now wasn't that an embarrassing moment that we'd all tried to forget).

Skirilla's was different _better_. It was a different colour and maybe even a slightly different shape (Poleepkwa, unlike humans, vary little apart from size and colour, proportionally we're all the same). My labarum quiver, even though I'm pretty sure that sorta thing is strictly human.

I realize I'm staring and I jerk my gaze up to Skirilla's face, only to find him looking back down at me curiously. I give him a bashful look and move my tentacles on his spike in some kinda apology for my odd behaviour. He growls out, quiet but I know what he intends to do next _pleaseyesplease_.

Positioning myself over his spike, I can't get over how simple everything seems now: I'm going home with my yetrkl, I have Skirilla back, there's no more MNU, no more organizations, no more being charity cases, no more districts... I feel like everything I've done since becoming a Poleepkwa was leading me here to him, to my Skirilla, to being with him again.

As we rock together into another abyss, Skirilla's growls and my keens no longer voice desperation, but a developing familiarity. We'll probably never get completely over our mad cycles or the fact that we've got each other back, but maybe... Maybe this is home.

_**TBC**_

_**Phe xxxxx**_


	17. Chapter 17 : Don't You Cry No More

**Disclaimer: **** Nope, still not mine. **

**A.N.: ****Again a big thank you to everyone; especially the old friend that sent me the amazing mixtapes I wrote this chapter to. **

**Warnings:**** body horror, sexual content, language and violence.**

**Poleep-speak:**

**Niklaket: Leaders. Teklad: Medics. Graketd: Royal guards. Lexcrant: Messengers. Krelaktyden: Military. Peclastr: Worker drones. Jikrenkld: Primary Leader. Hekrandrt: Vice President Figure. Yetrkl: Family. Riklasnt: Parent/s, creators. Claxrictrrrr: Offspring. Hecrtkl: Poleepkwa crying. Rekhalat: Poleepkwa marriage or partner. Does anyone read these anymore? Gajltri: An action. Begins with F in English. Harlslnt: The "Home-vessel" or "Home-transport". I love Supernatural. Lokrst: Respected position, captain. Trikfilcrn: group of Poleepkwa, varying depending on caste, led by a Lokrst. Yektradnl: Poleepkwa who aren't rational. Cas wants Dean. Bad. Treklasgrn: Poleepkwa who are rational. Iflakrt: "bitch". Porlaksrand: the mini-mechas. Rokhalmas: siblings of the same age or hatch-mates. Rokhelnas: younger siblings. Rekhalns: older siblings. Uruklafrs: pretty bad insult. Gabriel is so mother-fucking sexy. Sreklas: something small and annoying, "bug". Usleki: again insult (in plural. Singular is usleki). Harlnas: the smaller vessels Hntlarst: the jungle/forest that surrounds the hive. Xls: Se-ér-le-és (´= accent on this syllable). Jektly: "express himself".**

**Chapter Seventeen: Don't you Cry No More (Carry On My Wayward Son - Kansas)**

Unfortunately, our bliss doesn't last long. A loud noise sounds through the entire ship, making me jump out of Skirilla's arms. "What's going on?" I demand, looking 'round. "Don't panic, Wikus." Skirilla trills. "It's just alerting us that the morning food is prepared." I nod, trying to calm down. Noises that loud tended to come from the MNU speakers placed all over the district.

_We're not in the district anymore... This is gonna take some getting used to._ I nod to myself, trying to lose some of the tension in my body. _I wonder how many of the others are freaking out? _Skirilla opens the door and I, for want of a better word, stalk out into the hall. A few others are in the hall, clutching the weapons they brought up from Earth, ranging from trick-out human guns to knives made out of broken plastic.

They turn to me the minute I appear. I shake my head slowly. "Easy, guys, cool it. We've gotta stop doing this now." They look bemused, eyes still darting back and forth down the corridors. There's a small grey Poleepkwa, younger even than Zeke, standing beside riklasnt, hefting a pistol in his tiny tentacles, I can't help but feel ashamed for militarizing the hive.

"I get it. I know it's a hard thing to get over. But apparently we all just freaked out at the dinner bell. Spread the word to the others; we gotta stand down." They back down, bit by bit, trying to relax, just like me. The kid places the pistol back into its make-shift holster and scurries of between the legs of his older counterparts, obviously off to explain to the others.

I nod and follow Skirilla off in the opposite direction. His entire body screams "I'm not fooking happy": his shoulders are set even straighter than usual, his eyes are fixed straight ahead and he takes what are probably his normal steps, instead of walking slow enough for me to easily keep up. I end up doing a kind of hop-run to keep up with the long strides. "Why are you mad?"

"I'm... I'm not mad." He manages, rounding the corner so fast my feet skid on the strange, seamless metal floor as I follow him. "Bullshit. You're furious." He stops, grabbing hold of my shoulder and dragging me into one of the half-oval alcoves in the corridor's walls that accommodated the doors shooting off into different rooms.

His eyes are just as intense as I remember, but I'm not back in fear, but with worry. _Why's he this angry? What the fook did I do?_ "I'm not angry at you." He clicks slowly, obviously trying to choose the best way to word what he's telling me. "I'm angry at the humans. They made our people into the enemy, into an army. That child, there are more like him, aren't they?" He looks so... miserable, like the weight of the war we've been fight without him has coming crashing down on his spiky shoulders.

I nod. "Why?" He demands. "Better them being soldiers than victims." I try and give him a reassuring look, but I can tell it doesn't work. "They're **children**! They shouldn't have to be either!" I chuckle cynically. "Tell the humans that. Are we going?" I gesture out into the hall. He nods and leads the way. I can hear the other Poleepkwa we saw trudging down the hall, following the only two leaders they can remember.

XxCxWxX

The eating area is full of startled, alert district Poleepkwa, milling around with guns, machetes and chains at the ready. The sleeker, cleaner-looking Harlslnt Poleepkwa are calming them down, or at least trying to. I make my way through the crowd, finding most of my Lokrst gathered in the middle, Jack among them.

He draws me into an embrace, explaining in hushed clicks how Zack had practically beaten up a Krelaktyden twice his size trying to get to me when the panic had started. He gestures over at a pair o f Poleepkwa huddled close together over their helpings of food; I squint slightly and chitter happily when it turns out to be Dingane and Wayland.

Skirilla pops up out of the crowd behind me and wraps his arms around me. I roll my eyes. "Jack this is Skirilla. Skirilla this is Jack. He's been my hut-mate for the past seven-odd years. Probably wouldn't have done half as well without him." Jack nods respectfully at Skirilla, keeping his eyes down during the praise, embarrassed.

Suddenly, a two blurs of yellow-grey streaked through the crowd of Lokrst around us and wrapped it's arms around me and, subsequently, Skirilla. Looking down at the boys almost identical faces, I trilled unhappily at Zack's missing antennae and the cracks across Zeke's cheek-plates. My claxrictrrrr had been good soldiers, just like everyone else.

I clutched them close to me as Skirilla leant over me to have a word with an insanely tall, grumpy-looking Krelaktyden, his plating such a dark maroon it looks almost black. Zack chitter happily as he explains that the huge Poleepkwa's name is Brikubrak, and he so happens to be the one that he went to town on earlier. I nod at him, snort-chittering as I do so.

Brikubrak was apparently hanging around for a reason. From behind him emerged a smaller version of Skirilla. "Oliver!" Oliver nods. "Hello again, sweetie-man." Hearing the old nickname again, I almost break down, beckoning Oliver in to the unorthodox group hug happening right there in the middle of the eating space.

Together, a big tangled mess of me, my claxrictrrrr, my best friend and my Skirilla, we make our way to the line waiting for servings of food. I spot familiar people in the crowd; Hector and his new buddy clicking strangely across the surface of a table at one another; Harvey sweeping his water-soaked tentacles across the surface of a table, showing off his marking skills to a group of the Harlslnt peclastr; Cedric and George being all twitterpated in a corner; Hank discussing something with Harlslnt teklad; several of the other Lokrst talking amongst themselves, or with their surviving friend's and family…

It's nice to see them integrating themselves in; they're gonna need some practice for when we get to the hive.

XxCxWxX

Balancing the full water bowl on the tray gently with my binary arms, I eye the "food" on the tray in front of me as we find an empty space of bench big enough to fit us all, and end up listening to Al's explanation on how to eat it along with Jack and the boys. Kieran is looking happily on, nibbling at his portion and mostly just watching Al. There's something different about his scent… Different but familiar…

"Oh my God; you're carrying!" Kieran looks embarrassed and sidles at little closer to Al's side. Al puts his arm 'round Kieran's shoulders and nuzzles his neck affectionately. Skirilla comments on how good my senses are getting as the boys demanded a hatchling bearing their namesake. I listen to it all quietly, realizing my little outbursts has drawn some attention when Hector yells his congratulations on "an old dog like Al cutting the mustard" from across the cavernous room. "At least one of us can!" Al yelled back. That shut Hector up.

I realized that if Al and Hector where considered old, then Skirilla must be too. _Weird; I don't think he's old. But then again…_ I look over at Oliver, who must be about the boys' age, and who seems to be getting on with the two rather well. _To have a claxrictrrrr Oliver's age, he must be quite old right? _In the end I give a mental shrug and settle in to eat the "food" the way al explained earlier, occasionally corrected by Skirilla. Fusspot.

_**The next chapter will probably be the last, altough there may be an epilogue. I'm not quite sure yet.**_

_**Love Phe xxxxx**_


	18. Chapter 18 : In Love With What We Are

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still not mine.

**A.N.:** Again a big thank you to everyone who stuck with me 'til the end! You guys are the best ever! This is for you guys. Oh god, I'm actually tearing up!

**Warnings:** body horror, sexual content, language and violence.

**Poleep-speak: **No one noticed? Really? Go back and read the last chapter's Poleep-speak carefully.

**Chapter Eighteen: In Love With What We Are (Animal-Kesha)**

I'd known exactly what it was going to look like. If you'd asked me ten minutes ago I wouldn't have been able to tell you just what it really was going to look like, but now I've seen it I'd realised that I've always known what to expect.

Not that that knowing made it any less astounding, because nothing could make this look ordinary, and I think everyone agreed with me on that one. All around me my people were celebrating.

So many Poleepkwa were flooding off the Harlslnt that I could only catch site of some of my people; Jack and the boys were enfolded in the arms of a huge group of Graketd; Harvey was trying to elbow his way through the crowd to someone even taller than he was, waving frantically; Al was introducing Kieran to a huge maroon Krelaktyden, who promptly picked him up and half squeezed him to death.

My tentacle was gripped around Skirilla's tightly and looking around I just knew. I was home. This was home. The look Skirilla gave me as he pulled me closer was home. My people being greeted by family they hadn't seen in years was home. Oliver bouncing through the crowd like a kid in a candy store was home. The colour of the sky and the feel of the ground beneath my feet was home. The trees, the buildings, _the smell of the air _was home.

Skirilla's hand caressing my prominent bump and nuzzling my neck was home. And when my children were born, they would know nothing but home. And that was the best thought I had ever had.

…

**Short and sweet ending. Hope you liked it! Thank you all so much! **

**Love, Phe xxxxx**

**End Of Line**


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